


Rose Coloured Boy

by ohstardust



Category: Actor RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe RPF, Sebastian Stan - Fandom
Genre: Broadway References, College, F/M, Flashbacks, High School, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2019-06-27 00:12:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15674097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohstardust/pseuds/ohstardust
Summary: Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday to Sebastian! I thought it was very fitting to start this series on his birthday so I hope you like the first part and please let me know what you think.
> 
> My information page for this series can be found on [tumblr](https://ohstardust.tumblr.com/post/176387467143/rose-coloured-boy).

[](http://s1042.photobucket.com/user/iamsamball/media/6a46ee71-7e20-49f4-a61b-2fd379db4986_zpsbwdk9fja.png.html)

**_1995_ **

Eleanor Egan had befriended Sebastian Stan on an overcast morning in late August of 1995. No one had forewarned Eleanor how tragically horrific, and anxiety inducing, being the new kid at school would be especially when in a foreign country. Where she knew no one besides her mother and entered a school where most students had already grown up together. By 8am she’d already felt like a fish out of water and classes hadn’t even begun yet.

There were few things that could have eased her nerves that day more than another foreign new starter in class, she was thirteen years old with little inclination to start making new friends. She already felt too old to start that, past the point of starting fresh and trying to be social so she could avoid being the outcast even further, but someone else in her position eased her worry, and it lessened the pressure and cooled the heat that had been rising in her cheeks since breakfast. Eleanor didn’t like being the centre of attention at the best of times, especially not when she was being singled out for being the new _different_ European student in a foreign country that was far more vast than her birthplace. With the other new student stood up before the class, she sighed in relief with the knowledge she now had someone else to share the first day spotlight with.

Rockland Country Day School was nothing like Eleanor had imagined. With only 120 students across PK - 12th grade, it was a far cry from the 1200 student populated high school she had known for the past year. Everything was so small despite the vast district she’d found herself now inhabiting and she cursed every life changing moment that had led her to Rockland. But her mum had reassured her that this was right, this was what they both needed, and they had each other, what more did they both need besides that and stability? The calming arms that embraced her still left her with an ounce of concern, but she trusted her mum was doing right by them both. She had no other choice. She had her mother or nothing.

After a day of few whispers and stares and more _nice to meet you_ ’s and small smiles, she worried less about returning the following day, and the years that were still to come. This wasn’t like the school’s they showed in American movies, this was civilised and welcoming and oddly comforting. She supposed she could stick it out her for the duration.

*-*-*-*-

Romania. That’s where Sebastian Stan had been born. It had caught Eleanor so off guard that she stared wide eyed and bewildered at the young boy for a good five seconds after learning about his nationality. It was clear as day he wasn’t American, she’d been quick to realise this as soon as he introduced himself to their class of students, she just wasn’t expecting him to be _so_ European. But it calmed her knowing he was in the same situation as her, the pair a million miles from home surrounded by people they were yet to know. She’d left England only six weeks prior and it felt so daunting to be thrown back into education somewhere that felt uncomfortable and new and unlike anything she’d experienced before.

Before the end of the first day, Eleanor and Sebastian had become firm acquaintances with all the promise of a firm friendship in the making.

*-*-*-*-

“What were the chances that in this tiny school, there were _two_ brand new European students starting the same day in the same grade?” Eleanor wondered aloud in a muted whisper on that first Thursday afternoon, her chin resting in her left hand as her right repeatedly tapped her pen on her book in Science class boredom. Their teacher’s words circling and swirling around them in a haze that stopped just short of reaching Eleanor’s ears.

“Stupidly low, yet here we are.” Sebastian responded, scribbling notes in conjunction with the regaling of information, his hand working overtime, curious eyes darting from the blackboard to his paper and back again.

“I don’t believe in all that fate rubbish, but if I did, I’d probably put all the blame on that.”

He stopped his hand for a second and lifted his head to seek out the young girl wearing an amused smile, “Let’s just pretend it’s fate then,” Sebastian flashed a rounded, toothy grin at her before turning back to his notes.

*-*-*-*-

There’d been some mild excitement when she shyly spoke to her mother about Sebastian for the first time, it was strange, and she couldn’t put her finger on it, she’d had plenty of boy friends back home, but he felt different. Something about his confused accent from his time in Romania and Austria, his chubby cheeks that were impossibly rounded when he smiled and his earnest curiosity for learning all he could both in and outside of class, it twisted her in a way that she hadn’t felt before. He was a dorky nerd, yet so was she, and she’d smiled wide when she told her mum that she felt she’d met the boy version of her. Statistically it was bound to happen one day, but not this early on in her life. They were scarily alike for all their differences.

It was during the second week that Sebastian and Eleanor had come to befriend Nina Riley, a New Yorker that laughed loudly at weak jokes, spoke so animatedly that she encountered many near misses of smacking her dinner off the table with her gesticulations and had the longest hair Eleanor had ever seen in person. It was evident Nina was going to grow up to be a bit of a heartbreaker one day, yet Eleanor couldn’t bring herself to feel jealous every time a boy looked at Nina before they looked at her because she was so bright and had a smile more blinding than the sun itself.

The trio became thick as thieves, _the three musketeers_ they often referred to themselves as. Odds were, if you were every looking for one of them, you’d find the other two in their wake with wide smiles and shaking shoulders. They were the outcasts, no matter how nice and welcoming the other kids were, Sebastian, Eleanor and Nina were still on the outside of everyone else’s groups. And that was fine, they had their own and nothing was going to change that. Well almost nothing.

Nina left Rockland in the summer of 1999 with a promise to keep in touch and a sad smile reserved for those who knew her the most. The crack in their group left a hole that Sebastian and Eleanor didn’t know how to fill, hadn’t needed to fill in the four years they’d all been friends, so they grew even closer in their remaining two school years until the space was filled with just the two of them, comforting and complete again. They didn’t ever hear the full story for Nina’s departure, her family life a closed book, with mere snippets and glimpses at the odd pages, they simply had to accept she must go and wished her well through the tears and sadness of the fracture and loss of their best friend.

**********************************

**_2001_ **

She didn’t tell Sebastian how thankful she was to have him beside her during that first year, and those remaining ones, until they were graduating high school. But she’d said it with a pink tinge to her cheeks as she curled up beside him on a shared picnic blanket surrounding DeForest Lake as they mused over their future with the young, naive curiosity only two eighteen-year olds could, full of hope and fear and excitement for the unknown. Old enough to make their own decisions and steer their life how they wished, but still young enough to have _forever_ stretched out in front of them with endless possibilities. The clouds were few and far between, shifting at such a rate regardless, and the blue sky felt poignant and deliberate for one of the last afternoon’s they’d unknowingly spend together for another ten years.

Eleanor’s eyes wandered over the landscape rolling out before them, the towering trees, the flowing water, the tranquil sounds of the peace and quiet. The lake had been the place they could escape when things got too much, or they needed a break from the world, where they told each other endless secrets and make silly promises they thought they would keep. It was _their_ place with all it’s cliches in tow.

“I’m scared, Seba.”

“Of what?”

“Of leaving. Home, school, this safety blanket we have around us, _you_. Everything’s gonna change, the world is so vast out there and I feel so small and lost in comparison.”

“Me too, El. Me too,” he sighed and tightened his grip surrounding her lower back, sniffing back the tears that were forming, _he wouldn’t cry, he had to be strong for her, wouldn’t let her see just how scared he was of everything changing too,_ “but college is going to be amazing, we’re gonna have the time of our lives. We can be free.”

“I don’t feel ready, just wanna stay here a bit longer and pretend we don’t have to grow up yet.”

“You’re going to be the most successful person this school has ever seen, you mark my words, draguţă.”

Her head lifted off his chest and she grinned down at him, eyebrows raised teasingly as she ruffled his thick curly hair, “Wasn’t it you who was voted _Most Likely to Become a Celebrity_?” 

Sebastian eyes rolled, and he scoffed, “I’m never living this down, am I?”

“Not as long as you keep me around you’re not, I’m never letting that go.”

“What a shame, time to get rid of you then.”

Sebastian certainly deserved the jab in the side and bite to the shoulder he received from the smaller girl, his soft smile forming.

“I’m kidding, couldn’t let you go even if I tried.”

“Me either, and god have I tried Sebastian Stan.” She dramatically dropped her head back to his chest in mock exhaustion and fisted his soft marl grey shirt.

Sebastian pressed his lips to the crown of her head and snorted at her comment, “You’re terrible to me sometimes, absolutely horrible.”

“Get used to it darling, I’m not changing anytime soon.”

“Good.”

“Oh and Seb?”

“Yeah?”

“I think _you’re_ gonna be the most successful Rockland graduate. I can just see it now, a big hotshot actor with a legion of adoring fans and a pick of any girl you want. It’s what you deserve.”

His cheeks turned pink and he grew bashful, hiding his smile in her hair. He didn’t allow himself to dream this much, it was too dangerous and uncertain, he was too afraid to jinx himself and feel the disappointment further down the line. But the thought made him feel warm and content, knowing the faith Eleanor had in him. He was certain he could do anything he put his mind to with her belief.

“Only if you’re by my side, being overly emotional and lame as always.”

“I resent that, idiot,” she protested, “but yeah, I’ll be there.”

They didn’t know everything would change in a matter of months, both so sure they’d be around each other for the rest of their lives, in the audience cheering each other on through every theatre performance, attending premieres together for each others films, maybe even working together on a few occasions, and for them, that kept the dream alive longer than their friendship, it felt like an attainable goal if they were aiming for it together.

The regret would settle in years later when they were old enough to properly reminisce; they’d remember this day with a fond sadness, through a haze of _why did I let you go?_ that would last for a moment or two before they shook themselves free and continued on with their lives.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After changing the date Chace actually saw CMIYC, and then researching the shows opening night, half of the chapter basically wrote itself. I can’t believe how well this timeline actually worked out.

**_March 2011_ **

Time had moved at a rapid rate since finishing college, like someone hit the fast forward button on the remote control of time, someone intent on Eleanor pushing through her twenties at four times the normal speed. Every moment felt like a metaphor for the  _blink and you’ll miss it_ analogy. 

Despite this, time had been far kinder to the woman - now approaching twenty-nine - than she could have anticipated, even all those years ago when she dreamt of, and mused over, the thought of seeing her name in lights on the theatres of Broadway. She may not  _quite_ have her name branded in bulbs, nor did the  _Catch Me If You Can_  tryouts start out in New York, but Seattle had been a three-week rollercoaster, in the summer of ’09, that had sent her head reeling with the excitement of playing a principal character. Her good feelings about the production had only increased with the confirmation of a transfer, to Broadway, set for early ’11. She surmised there were far worse ways to be spending her time, and career, than playing Brenda Strong, for avid theatregoers, opposite Aaron Tveit’s Frank Abagnale Jr.  
  
With the green light set for the show to be brought to her current home city, she’d begun her hunt for a new apartment, something half decent that she’d actually be able to afford following the departure of her previous roommate. The agreement had terminated on amicable terms, but Eleanor was still bitter at being left with a two-occupant apartment to fund alone, it had been four months and she was tired of the unfriendly, and poorly maintained tenant block. Nothing could have prepared her for the whirlwind that would follow her move.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-  
  
“So, this illusive Sebastian - is he - has he said if he’s coming to Lisa’s engagement party?”  
  
“You seem awfully concerned about Seb coming to our get-togethers, you that desperate to meet him, huh El?” Chace grinned over a glass of soda and nudged Eleanor’s shoulder, his eyebrows comically wiggling as Damon smirked at them.  
  
“Get a hold of yourself, Crawford,” Her eyes rolled, and she stuffed a few fries in her mouth as she shook her head, she paused for a minute as she swallowed her food, glancing around the burger joint and working out how to keep her nerve, “Just curious is all, the guy seems like an illusion at this point.” And that was how she wanted him to stay, a figment of everyone’s imagination that wouldn’t question the woman she had become, wouldn’t rehash old memories, wouldn’t ask for explanations, or worse, pretend they hadn’t ever existed  _together._ She felt safer that way with the blissful ignorance of his existence within their inner circles so many years later.  
  
Just over eight months had passed since Eleanor had found herself living next door to Damon Lovitz, something she often mused to be a blessing for her social life and also a tragedy for her free time. He’d worked his way into her life within 72 hours of her living in his apartment building and she hadn’t known peace and quiet since.  
  
They’d become fast friends, so fast that it almost made Eleanor dizzy when she met his closest friends on the fourth day of knowing him at Lisa’s birthday. But it was what she’d needed at that time, not that she’d ever admit the desperation that had been a prelude to their meeting.  
  
It had really fucked with her head the day she met Chace Crawford though, his handsome charm and sparkling eyes were enough to throw any stranger off, but it was her knowledge of his close friendship with Sebastian that really knocked her for six. It had fast become apparent that Chase was one of Damon’s nearest and dearest friends, and one glance at a picture frame in her neighbours living room, confirmed his friendship with her ex-best friend too. It was almost too much, too coincidental. New York was home to 8.5 million people, so how had it come to be that she’d accepted the apartment next to one of Sebastian’s friends?  _Fate_ was a word that left a bitter taste in her mouth.  
  
“Is that why you’ve asked about him a few dozen times over the past few months?”  
  
“Can’t I just be curious?”  
  
“You can, but I saw your laptop open on his Wikipedia page, so I call bullshit.”  
  
“I suggest you stop talking right now before I shut your mouth for you.”  
  
“You’re not helping your case here at all, just admit that you wanna meet him and I’ll set you up. I’m a good wingman. I can play cupid for you, babe.” It was just so him to poke and prod in certain situations, he could be intrusive without it being  _too_ much, he was one of the only people she knew that could make her admit things she would otherwise try to hide, made her confront things head on and come out of her shell more. She couldn’t blame him for wanting to understand.  
  
“I - no, I don’t Chace. You couldn’t be any further from the truth if you tried -  _wingman_.”  
  
“Then what is it? You’re keeping something from us.” She sighed and threw the cluster of fries she had scooped up back in the basket, the paper crinkling under the force.  
  
“There’s history between Seb  & I.”  
  
Damon inhaled his soda and immediately choked a little on her admission, “I’m sorry, what?”  
  
“You know him?” Chace’s eyebrows scrunched tighter as she nodded, and he sat back against the back the booth’s seat, confusion clear across his face, “why didn’t you tell us?”  
  
She shrugged casually, wishing it would shed an air of nonchalance on the situation but she felt worked up and her shoulders tight, she liked this secret being kept to herself, it felt like that area of her life had been boxed off and sealed, with as much closure as she had hoped to receive, “Didn’t seem much to tell really. We were best friends in middle to high school, lost touch sometime during college. It was my fault really.”  
  
“The pair of you were close friends and you didn’t think to share it with us?”  
  
“It - look, it wasn’t to be malicious, okay? - God, please don’t look at me like that, Crawford,” Chace looked mildly hurt and she hated it, she hadn’t meant to deceive them in any way. She took hold of his hand and squeezed it, locking their fingers together in apology and watched Damon, “- I was just being selfish. Everything felt easy pretending I didn’t know him, I didn’t feel as guilty for leaving him because I wasn’t talking about him like I knew him. He was just another mutual friend in my head and to you guys, it was safer to compartmentalise it that way.”  
  
“So what happened?”  
  
“He looked so happy in New Jersey, he made great friends, he was working hard at Rutgers, and I guess I was jealous - it’s so… ridiculous and childish now I look back on it - it felt inevitable he’d leave me behind at some point, or something like that. That’s what I told myself anyway. So I took the opportunity to do it on my own terms whilst I was back home, and we just started to talk less until we didn’t talk at all.”  
  
“Do you miss him?” Damon asked softly, unsure of where her feeling stood amidst this brief trip down memory lane. He couldn’t quite figure out whether Sebastian was firmly her past, or still, in part, her present.  
  
“I did for a while until I just became used to it and he was more of a memory than anything, it was easy because it was unlikely we’d bump into each other once he’d finished college. But then I started seeing his face on TV and posters and  _in your bloody apartments_  and it’s like my past just reappeared out of the blue, and it feels weird. I’m not sure if it’s in a good way or not. I just didn’t want to tell you guys, I could just be myself that way. I wasn’t an  _extension_ of him or something. I just - I don’t want to see him because I’m ashamed that I let my own insecurities ruin the best relationship I had. He’s my only tie to my teens and starting out here - it was a big deal then, but it’s not now.”  
  
“And what would have happened if he’d shown up out of the blue and you couldn’t avoid him?”  
  
She just shrugged, “I’d have just crossed that bridge when I came to it.”  
  
“You still should have told us - hate the thought that you were on edge thinking he’d turn up and you couldn’t have prepared for it.”  
  
“It’s fine - look I mean it, I’m sorry - but please don’t tell him about me, okay? At least not yet, he’d know it wouldn’t be just a coincidence if you told him my name or any other minor detail about me, he’s not stupid, he’d know.”  
  
“Okay, you want this to be a secret for now? We’ve got you, right Chace?” The younger man nodded at Damon and focused back on Eleanor, gripping her hand tighter and squeezing it reassuringly.  
  
“No telling Seb, got it. Also, for peace of mind, he’s not coming.”  
  
“That’s a relief. Besides, I’m more interested in meeting Taylor, anyway.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-  
  
March 11th, 2011. That was certainly a day for Eleanor Egan’s history books, a defining moment in the perpetually unwritten autobiography of her life. Despite her dramatic protests in Damon’s living room of  _I can’t do this, I’m going to throw up and then get blacklisted from Broadway for being a hopelessly, dire mess of an actress,_ the first preview night of  _Catch Me If You Can_ had been a roaring success despite its mixed reviews, and Eleanor was on cloud nine, floating on a weightless cotton ball that she feared would plummet at any given moment and ruin her existence. She wasn’t a theatre actress for nothing.  
  
Granted, official opening night wasn’t for another month, and there were another 31 previews until her friends and family - or rather her mother - could enjoy her enthusiasm and congratulate her extensively, but she gushed nonetheless for the following four weeks until the official debut of the show. Playing Brenda was somewhat of a dream come true, she was light-hearted and lovesick but with the emotion and passion of a fiery woman that went against everything you would come to expect from the petite blonde. Okay, so maybe Eleanor wasn’t too fond of the scratchy, synthetic wig, but at least she could pull it off.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-  
  
The sight of her supporters, following an exhausting - yet rewarding - opening night performance, turned her into an emotional wreck backstage at the Neil Simon theatre. Her mother’s mascara had stained her cheeks and as soon as she caught sight of her daughter swaying her way towards them, her sobs started again, tears soaking into the young woman’s shirt. Apparently, it didn’t matter that she was a grown woman, her mum still pinched her cheeks, kissed her forehead and uttered a litany of  _I’m so proud of you my darling girl_ until she grinned and reached her arms out to wrap around both Damon & Chace, their grins smothered by her shoulders _._ And then there was her sweet boyfriend Rhys, laden down with an enormous bouquet of flowers and a ridiculously wide smile full of pride. Eleanor figured opening nights were worth all the nerves if this was the response she’d receive.  
  
An hour and half later she joined the cast at  _Cipriani,_  on 42nd Street, her closest friends in tow, with the addition of Sasha, Josh & Lisa. She was overwhelmed that they’d all made the extra effort to be around for this important night of hers, she knew the difficulties of having famous, actor friends, but the way they had accepted her, and loved her in such a short space of time, still took her by surprise.  
  
“Thank you for being here,” she sighed a half hour later, a buzzed smile slipping onto her lips after clearing two flutes of champagne and her read rested on Sasha’s shoulder. The younger woman grabbed another glass and shoved it in Eleanor’s hand, “shut up missy, like any of us would miss this.”  
  
The prerequisite of a fancy afterparty was having to mingle with a tonne of attendees, all of whom she either knew or didn’t. It was daunting but Aaron had offered to stick with her so they could do the rounds together and she was so grateful for him, more than ever, eternally grateful for the friendship they had built over the past couple of years and only solidified by his friendship with Chace.  
  
“So, is that the boyfriend over there, chatting to Chace?” Aaron asked as they finished their small-talk with Matthew Broderick and moved their way over to the bar.  
  
Eleanor’s smile widened at the thought of him and she turned to watch him interacting with her friends for a few moments, “It is, his name’s Rhys, I told you that right?”  
  
“You may have mentioned it once or twice.” He smirked, flagging down the bartender.  
  
“Shut up Tveit.”  
  
“You didn’t tell me how you guys met though, you know I’m a sucker for mushy-fluffy shit.”  
  
Eleanor snorted at his tipsy admission and shrugged her shoulders before rehashing the basic details of that drunken night out with her friends last November.  
  
It’d happened a few days before Thanksgiving. He was a bartender at one of the places they’d visited that night, not one of their usual places, and he’d been cute, flirty, and started giving her watered down free drinks. He was a fellow actor, working part time between auditions, just something to make ends meet until a better offer came along that would allow him to love the bar behind. When she’d questioned him,  _why does this taste like flavoured water? -_ okay, it was more of a demand _-_ he’d smiled and nonchalantly shrugged in a softened Welsh accent that had originally hailed from the South, “You’ll thank me in the morning when the stampede in your head isn’t quite so violent,” he’d then proceeded to scribble on a napkin before handing it over the sticky countertop, “and maybe you’ll remember who I am and you’ll give me a call.” He had a shy air about him, but a confidence that both jolted and intrigued her, so the following morning, with a slightly clearer head, she’d shot him a text;  _thanks for taking the edge off the rum last night, I’ve lived to see another day._  
  
They went on their first date the following afternoon.  
  
“Ugh, gross,” Aaron received a slap to the arm and a raised eyebrow, “you asked, dickhead.”  
  
He raised a tequila shot and clinked his glass with hers, “here’s to at least another five months of our tragic love story and pretending to tolerate each other.”  
  
“Is it too late to drop out?”  
  
“You’re stuck with me now,  _Brenda._ Besides, like Norbert would let you leave. _”_  
  
“Fuck, guess I’ll go and talk to Hugh Jackman then, see if he can save me from you,” she poked her tongue out at him as she started to make her move away from him, he just sat and shook his head in amusement. Eleanor Egan was certainly a character all of her own.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-  
  
As she curled up in bed that night, Rhys softly snoring behind her, she let herself think about Sebastian and how she wished he’d been there with her that day, to share the experience and excitement and thrill of the dazzling lights and nerves. The moment she started to feel regret, she squeezed her eyes tightly shut, and willed the image of him to float away until her exhaustion overtook her, and she passed out amongst her cool pillows and her blissfully unaware boyfriend.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love building on friendships and showing how at ease some of these characters are with each other. Also, Sebastian does make an appearance in this part, this is the start of his regular appearance.
> 
> If you're enjoying this series, please drop me a comment or kudos :)

Damon loved to celebrate his birthday, had ever since he was still in nappies, and understood that it meant all the attention could be focused on him for at least a whole day. He certainly never made any secret of the fact to his friends. As he grew older, Damon pursued it as the perfect opportunity to round up his closest friends, and some not quite so close ones, and drink himself stupid until he woke up the following morning, unsure of who he was, and what age he’d become. He’d called it a tradition long before he’d turned thirty.

This year Eleanor had found her way onto his more extensive guest list for the celebration of his milestone birthday, he was desperate to introduce his neighbour to those few friends attending that had yet to meet her. And if he had  _Sebastian Stan_  in mind, then no one needed to know about that.

“Aren’t you a bit old to be having a big piss up for your thirtieth, Damo?” Despite the seventeen years she’d spent in America, her British inflections never left her, nor did her slang, all still very prominent, infused with a New York twang. _Not like Sebastian_ , she’d noted during his roles she’d caught him in over the past couple of years, the way his accent had changed dramatically from the thirteen-year-old boy she’d first met. He’d been intent on changing his accent the moment he arrived in the States, a young boy eager to not stand out and appear like the rest of his peers. Eleanor hadn’t quite shared the same sentiment, but she supposed it was different for her, a British accent was a far cry from a Romanian one in a predominantly English-speaking country.

“Excuse me little Miss  _‘I’m still 29 for another ten months_ ’.” She rolled her eyes at him and whipped him with the dishcloth as he rinsed off their dinner plates in the kitchen sink and left them to sit in the hot, soapy dishwater to soak. They were enjoying their Sunday night together, it was Eleanor’s only day off due to a gruelling 8-show-6-day long weeks. He promised her a home cooked meal to help her unwind, which translated to _“I’ll order some take out and we can devour a bottle wine whilst you bitch about one of those girls in the chorus line who isn’t pulling her weight’._ Not that she minded, not one bit.

“I can’t believe I’m actually going to be friends with someone that  _old_. It’s gross, I need to find some new friends.”

Damon scoffed and rolled his eyes at his marginally younger friend, “You’ve still got that edge on Chace at least.”

“Thank  _god_ , his youth will keep me sane,” she joked, her head tilted back, and the back of her right hand raised to her forehead.

He shook his head and snickered at her, pouring them both a glass of red wine whilst throwing the take-out containers in the trash, “You’re ridiculous, why aren’t you ever this dramatic in public?”

“I’m still trying to give off the illusion that I’m a fully functioning, and normal, adult. I save my theatrics for the stage and your apartment.”

Damon snickered, and she flicked some of the dishwater at her friend before grabbing their glasses and wandering off to the living area, “El, you’re fooling no one.”

“I didn’t say I was any good at it.” 

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

Damon’s phone had been buzzing for the past half hour and Eleanor was just about ready to snatch his phone off the coffee table and throw it against the living room wall just to make the vibration stop.

“Will you mute that fucking thing or so help me god I’m breaking it.” 

“Someone has her panties in a twist.”

She was tired, oh so tired from a long working week and the apprehension was gnawing at her brain the more she thought about Damon’s birthday the following weekend. He’d contacted his friends a few weeks back with the details, most thanking him for the invite with a promise to be there, but Sebastian had yet to reply and she was trying not to dread the idea of him showing up, she at least needed the warning, if not a confirmation of his absence. There would be no escaping him in a room full of their close friends.

“I’m trying to concentrate on this film, put a sock in it.”

Before Eleanor had the chance to react, as the device began to ring, he grabbed it and dug his toes into her side to distract her.

“Sebastian Stan, to what do I owe this pleasure?” Her stomach sank at the confirmation of the caller, uneasiness working its way through her bones and settling in her chest. Instead of listening to one side of the conversation between her current and former friends, she took the opportunity to jump up and grab the half empty wine bottle from the kitchen.

The more she thought about it, the more ridiculous she felt for wanting to avoid him as much as she’d been casually trying to, the relief of hearing he wouldn’t make it to Lisa’s engagement, or Sasha’s birthday or Josh’s housewarming, seemed harsh and unnecessary. At twenty-nine years old, she realised she was too old for pettiness and trying to avoid uncomfortable situations. She was mostly to blame for all of this anyway, she knew she was and she wasn’t trying to shift all the blame in his direction no matter how hurt she had been for his willingness to let her go, so if the universe wanted to throw her a curveball by bringing him back into her life, then where was the harm in that? Where was the harm in apologising and moving on? Friends or not? She could do this, it’s not like she dwelled on this all that much, not on _him,_ she just thought of him more often these days than she had in the past ten years. Given the circumstances, it was perfectly normal.

Eleanor threw the remaining used utensils from the countertop into the water, swiped the surface with a clean cloth and trudged into the living room to curl up on the sofa beside her neighbour.

“No worries man, thanks for letting me know and good luck. See you soon man, bye.”

She pretended to be focused back on the screen despite the paused imaged and raised her head as he tossed his phone beside him on the sofa, an eyebrow raised amongst a mouthful of beer.

“He can’t make it, I guess this Marvel press tour is really kicking his ass.” _Relief. Dread. Sadness. Disappointment._

“I’m sorry.”

He smiled over at her and locked her hand in his, rubbing over her thumb, his expression soft and understanding, “It’s not your fault, everyone else is coming. I suppose you’re pretty happy about it really, aren’t you?”

She pondered for a moment, thinking of seeing him again, coming face to face with him amongst their friends, and this feeling of mild disappointment started to rise through her, through a half smile she said, “I thought I would be, but now I’m not sure.”

_I thought putting it off would make it easier in the long run but now I feel like I need to rip the band aid off and see him, make amends maybe._

The conversation lulled following her light omission, they pressed play on the film and continued watching, trying to push all Sebastian thoughts from her mind.

_Sometimes I really wish Nina was still around, she’d know what to do. Perhaps we wouldn’t be in this situation at all if she hadn’t left._

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-

If there was one thing Eleanor had grown to love about parties and nights out with friends, it was being drunk enough to loosen up, to be able to move without reservation and to enjoy music the way she always wanted to be able to, night or day. Her arms were swaying, her hips swinging, and her laughter bubbling as she moved along with Sasha and Lisa, a few girls she wasn’t too familiar with also joined in to the sounds of _Grace Jones._

 _Driving down those city streets_  
_Waiting to get down_  
_Won't you get your big machine  
_ _Somewhere in this town?_

Damon was embarrassingly drunk before 10pm and Eleanor supposed she’d better start downing some spirits if she wanted to match him, _it’s what she deserved_ he kept reassuring her, spraying half of his drink all over her before he’d had chance to swallow it. She wasn’t all too pleased about that. The girls had been sharing stories, swapping gossip, laughing at their boyfriends who were too drunk to be dancing and gyrating the way they were. Yeah, Eleanor really ought to be far more drunk that she was. 

“Ellie bellie!” The birthday boy’s voice rang throughout the club, the upstairs of one of their favourite hangouts had been reserved for their large party and a bunch of the guest list turned their heads at the commotion of his obnoxious tone. He slung his arm around her neck and nestled in, smacking a loud kiss to her chin. 

“That’s gross. I thought I told you to fucking cut that out. It’s an ugly nickname.” The girls laughed beside the pair and moved with their partners who joined them for a slower song. One of Rhys’ arms wrapped around her from behind and kissed just below her ear, laughing at Damon clinging onto her other side.

“You’re so boring, you old wench.”

She smiled lovingly and patted his head, “No, love, that’s you.”

As Chace came over to join them, a fresh drink in his hand, Damon perked up and raised his head with a devilish grin which usually spelled trouble right from the get-go, “The time has come for you to meet Taylor, he’s dying to meet you.”

“Poor thing, he’ll be awfully disappointed.”

“I tried telling him, but he’s still eager, _go figure_.”

“Your friends are dumb.”

“They’re your friends now too, remember?”

“I’m sorry Rhys, but we need to steal this one away for a few minutes, you can have her back soon. God knows we don’t want her any longer than necessary.” Rhys fondly waved them off and raised his glass in acknowledgement, sitting himself beside Josh to engage in a conversation.

With his flat palm pressed to the middle of Eleanor’s back, Chace guided her in the direction he’d spotted his older friend, Damon to her other side, hand gripping her elbow in anticipation and faux annoyance.

“Fuck you too, Lovitz.” 

“Don’t swear at the birthday boy.”

“Stop provoking me then,” she hissed and pinched behind his bicep.

“Besides, you’re not really my type.”

“For the final time, I can’t help the fact I don’t have a dick, I don’t love you enough to put myself through that.”

“I hate you, leave my party at once.”

“Just remember who’ll be tending to your hungover, sorry ass in the morning.”

“You make a strong case, I guess you can stay with minimal distress.”

Minimal distress would have been far kinder than what followed. It felt like the air had been sucked out of the room the moment her gaze fixed on him, and immediately she felt sick and cringed at the embarrassing cliche that had encompassed her existence and mind. She vowed she wouldn’t be this weak willed and hung up woman, she was far too old for such nonsense. But being in the same room as her former friend felt far more restricting than she had expected, far more so than the small sadness she felt when she clocked a Gossip Girl rerun on television or The Covenant playing on the horror channel in the early hours of the morning. The first thing she noticed was _he looks good, he looks really good._ The second was, _he shouldn't be here, he said he wouldn't be here._

Her body had remained rigid for a moment, stopping her friends from moving further. It was overwhelming, but she reminded herself that she could do this, she was just caught off guard, that’s all.

“Are you okay?” Chace asked, voice just loud enough to be heard with his mouth close to her ear but calm enough to not startle her. She could feel his hand pressing a little closer to her to try and keep her calm.

“Uh-huh.”

"He just showed up to surprise Damon, we didn't know."

Eleanor mustered up the fakest genuine looking smile she could and cleared her throat, “I’ve got this.”

The trio took a few more steps to join Sebastian who was animatedly chatting with Taylor, catching up on what Eleanor assumed they’d both missed on over the past few months of each other lives. It felt a dozen kinds of weird, and bizarre, watching an older Sebastian standing before her, different from the boy she once knew in as many ways as he was still the same. Eleanor was almost certain she was having an outer body experience, that was the only explanation.

“Good evening gents!”

Taylor & Sebastian cut themselves off mid conversation to face them and Taylor smiled instantly as he took a step forward with open arms, “you must be the famous -“

Sebastian’s face had paled, and he looked stunned, jaw slack and eyes wide, his whole body had frozen at the sight, “Eleanor.”

_F U C K._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for how long it took me to upload this next part, it's been written for weeks but I've been ridiculously busy and unable to finish part 5. However, that's all done now so here's part 4.
> 
> If you're enjoying this series, please drop me a comment or kudos :)

Sebastian had often dwelled on the ‘non-committal’ ending to his friendship with Eleanor in the years that followed their high school graduation that summer of ’ _01_. He refers to it as non-committal simply because it faded and fizzled, like the flickering flame reaching the end of a match or the disintegration of a sunset haze into the night air. It hadn’t seemed as life changing back then, at least not on a scale either of them would have anticipated, he hadn’t thought much about her not being by his side during his college graduation or when he got his first television gig. He’d moved on and made new friends by then despite the friendship they’d both carried with them through their teens.

The fade just happened with dwindling phone calls and visits until suddenly there was nothing left but hazy teenage memories that Sebastian thought of too often in his late twenties.

  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*   
  


**_2001_ **  

By the time October had rolled around, Sebastian had settled in very well at Rutgers University; he was full of energy, wide eyed eagerness and the prospective thrill of an opportunity to study in London during his degree. Being surrounded by so many likeminded people, striving for the same goals him, had been far less nerve-wracking and competitive than he’d anticipated, and far more exhilarating and stimulating. In a nutshell, Sebastian was _happy, more than happy._

He’d checked in with Eleanor biweekly since the start of the semester, not wanting to miss a detail of her own college experience, despite the small distance separating them both. They may have been living in the same state, the same city for that matter, but it may as well have been the other side of the country for the lack of free time they both seemed to have.

It had been a conscious decision for Sebastian to remain living in New York during his college studies, the commute to New Jersey was small enough for him to not have to leave the state behind, he wanted to experience life in the thick of the city, the place he knew he was likely to get his big break. If he ever did that is.

The moment they’d both received their acceptance letters, they’d begun weighing up the pro’s and con’s of living together, _we’d get to see each other more often and spend more time together_ versus _I don’t want you to grow sick of me or to cause any fights. We don’t have to live with someone we don’t know_ versus _it might do us good to know more people and make more friends. We can study together and run lines without having to leave our own apartment_ versus _I won’t be able to look you in the eye the mornings after you have sex._  

The prospect of sharing their college experience together, living under the same room, behaving like they were in some mediocre sitcom, sounded fun, of course it did, what best friends _didn’t_ want to live together? But they’d spent the better part of the last five years in each other’s pockets, eating lunch, studying, making friends with the same peers, attending acting camp. College was a time for new experiences, new friends, new traditions, and neither of them were prepared to put their own wants, and _needs_ , above doing what was right for the other.

Sebastian knew Eleanor would flourish at Tisch in the theatre program, she’d dazzle everyone like she’d dazzled him back when he was a naive thirteen-year-old, _you’re gonna make it big time_ he’d told her in a silly blanket fort in her bedroom the evening before they moved into their new apartments. He wasn’t standing in her way, he wasn’t going to be the reason she didn’t thrive on her own. His heart was too full of love to keep her from achieving what he knew she could. And Eleanor? Sebastian may not have known it, but she made the decisions she did, from long before college, to many months down the road, simply because she felt just as he did, she wasn’t stopping him from doing _anything_ she knew he was capable of.

And their biggest fear of all? It was the thought of putting an irreparable strain on their relationship and causing resentment somewhere down the line. Everything was fine the way it was, so why jeopardise that?

Oh, the irony of their eighteen-year-old decision.   
  


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-* 

**  
October 2001**

Fall had never looked as beautiful as it had done at that point in time. It had very little to do with the surroundings of campus, or this side of New Jersey, and more to do with the feelings and emotions fall brought with the changing times of this point in Sebastian’s life. Browning leaves crunched under foot and the air was cooler than it had been a few weeks prior, the humidity had dulled to nothing, allowing for an extra layer to be worn, yet warm enough to forgo a coat. Fall had settled a content feeling in his bones, like the warmth of a coffee shop on a rainy day, the ending of a good novel, a cuddle on the sofa during a film. Sebastian hadn’t felt this good in a long while.

He could still remember that day he walked out of his campus building and saw his best friend standing there with an enormous grin and two coffees in hand. She was a breath of fresh air, even on a great day. He’d scooped her up into his arms, mindful of the beverages she tried to angle away from him, and he held her there for a minute or so. It had been a month of texting and calling, when they had the time, but _christ_ had he missed having her right there in front of him. She squeezed him a little tighter and then let go, her hand outstretched to offer him a cup.

“Just how you like it, at least I hope it still is,” she teased.

“You shouldn’t have, but thank you, I really need this. _All_ of this”

“Long day?”

“I guess you could say that, although I don’t know how, it’s barely four.”

Eleanor hummed in agreement, and gulped a mouthful of her drink, “I hear you, it can be so draining, I’m pretty much sleeping every chance I get.”

“Sleep? Sorry, no clue who, or what, that is.” His eyebrows scrunched, and he laughed, trying to make light of the fact he was beyond exhausted this early into the semester, even though he knew classes weren’t entirely to blame.

Instead of joining in the humour, her face appeared more concerned, she always worried about him, no matter what, “You better be taking time for yourself, and resting, Stan.”

“Yes mom.”

“I see Rutgers haven’t taught you any manners yet, you heathen.”

That ridiculous smirk had been perfected on his face throughout his mildly growing confidence, “They’ve taught me plenty, I just don’t want you thinking they changed me _too_ much.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever helps you sleep at night, honey.”

“Hey, so I know this was supposed to be just us, but my friends kinda wanna meet you so I said they could join us,” he scrunched his face and clenched his teeth in anticipation, “is that okay?”

If she wasn’t okay with it, she didn’t let it show, instead she nodded with a smile and continued to drain her coffee, “Of course it is, the more the merrier, eh?”

Eleanor kicked up the leaves in his direction and laughed as he retaliated. _Yeah, they were just fine._

  
*-*-*-*-*-*

  
No time had been wasted that afternoon, he’d found Eleanor’s eagerness for being shown around the Mason Gross campus all too endearing, wanting a peak into his lecture rooms and seeing where he spent his time. She’d wanted to absorb everything about this place and what it was offering her friend. She’d made no secret of her curiosity and vast interest in the space around her. Later that afternoon, on the train journey they shared home, she rested her head on his shoulder and told him how she couldn’t wait to return the favour and show him her grounds sometime soon. Eleanor wanted to link arms with him and point to every new room that had become her life and share that special place with him too. She’d been hesitant to admit it aloud, but there were times she really wished they’d applied for the same colleges.

As for his classmates, they were the friendliest and most welcoming bunch, well _mostly,_ which had been a shock to him in the beginning. He’d been expecting far too many loud personalities that clashed, and a bucketload of bitchiness to boot, but thankfully everything was travelling smoothly in that area and along the way he’d made a good group of friends, bold hard workers. There were just four of them, but it was an equal and fair number, there was no shouting to make your voice heard, but enough to bounce off each other and bring out the best in one another. He’d been excited, and nervous, in equal measures, to introduce them to Eleanor. What if they didn’t like her? _Unlikely._ What if she didn’t like them? _Would that change his opinion towards them too?_ He feared it would.

Watching them interact had quelled his anxiety regarding the situation, quick to realise there had been nothing to worry about. As usual, she looked comfortable and natural being a part of their group and he couldn’t refrain from wondering if she’d always look so at peace in every area of his life. _Would she always fit in? Was this how life would be? What happens if it isn’t? What happens if she stops being able to slot herself into his life? Where does that leave him?_ He left all of these questions unanswered for the time being and decided it wasn’t worth thinking about when everything was still as he knew it should be. He’d like to bury his head in the sand a little longer. 

  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

 **  
New Year’s Eve, December 2001**  

Finding yourself blind drunk on a Monday night was never a recipe for success, no matter how good the last vodka tasted as he knocked it back. He’d promised Eleanor a night with his new college friends though, and let it be known, Sebastian Stan is a man of his word. He distinctly remembered being a little too insistent that his flatmate Jared celebrated the New Year with them after sinking a few glasses of something positively vile tasting. It was all Eleanor’s fault really, she had a penchant for drinking anything she could get her hands on, no matter how cheap it was or how much it tasted like paint stripper.

Sebastian remembered all too clearly how _lovely_ she looked that evening, Tisch was treating her very well indeed and that smile on her face seemed more permanent than he’d ever recalled seeing it. She was radiant, and it was screwing with his head a little too much. He hadn’t been able to dwell on it for long though, four of his new peers had loudly come knocking on his apartment door, arms laden with alcohol he didn’t even question them procuring. He figured he didn’t _need_ to know. The last to arrive had been his girlfriend, Katy, an average height, fiery red headed, girl he’d met in class. He’d been hesitant to invite her along for the celebrations, no one knew her all too well, but she was alone in the city and he couldn’t bear to let her spend the holiday alone. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

So, she’d joined in, making nice with everyone occupying the apartment, charming those she hadn’t met and acquainting herself further with those she had. Katy was radiant, and Sebastian’s feelings were a little off kilter when he saw how well she was getting along with Eleanor. Perhaps this all had been a little too much for him to handle. Instead of openly acknowledging it, he turned the music louder, grabbed a few more bottles from the seemingly endless collection on the kitchen counter, and began offering it around like the kind host he had convinced his friends he could be.

The night had whirled by in a blur, all knocking back drink after drink, whilst trying to perform (mostly) godawful renditions of mixed compilation CD’s Jared was powering through.

Eleanor had collared Sebastian the moment he tried to sit down on the sofa, he really ought to have known he wouldn’t be able to escape at least a duet throughout of the course of the evening, she was certainly one to make sure of that. And for all of Sebastian’s make-believe confident facade he boasted to his friends from time to time, he was very thankful for all the vodka in his system that baited his anxiety of _singing_ in front of his friends. He still made a mental note to plan his payback when she was least suspecting.

Eleanor pressed next on the CD player and threw her head back in amusement as the opening bars of Billy Joel rang throughout the apartment. Like a rehearsed collaboration, they took the song line by line, alternating the parts like they’d done many times over the past few years, with earphones stuffed in their ears, listening through Eleanor’s walkman in a fort of pillows and blankets. He could at least be grateful she’d chosen something he knew like the back of his hand.

_Sergeant O'Leary is walkin' the beat_  
_At night he becomes a bartender_  
_He works at Mr. Cacciatore's down on Sullivan Street_  
_Across from the medical center_  
_Yeah and he's tradin' in his Chevy for a Cadillac_  
_You oughta know by now_  
_And if he can't drive with a broken back  
_ _At least he can polish the fenders_

Humoured cheers and claps and yells filled the ending of the song and the pair laughed into each other necks at how silly they enjoyed being together.

“C’mon guys, the countdown!” 

There was no feeling of justification when the knot in Sebastian’s stomach tightened upon seeing them together. It didn’t matter who kissed who, who was sleeping together or who were friends or not, it wasn’t his business. It _shouldn’t_ matter that, through a drunken chorus of _Auld Lang Syne_ , Eleanor & Jared hadn’t stopped for air despite their sloppy, giggly mouths barely keeping in sync. There were catcalls and jeers, but they were blissfully unaware, seemingly unaware of whatever was happening, or falling apart, around them.

He was sobering rapidly, or at least he felt as though he was, until Katy hesitantly pulled him in for a kiss and he felt like his knees were ready to give way. And they did, his body momentarily slumped in his girlfriend’s arms before he righted himself and held onto her, wanting to keep her safe from the betrayal of his body and confused thoughts that were rushing through his mind at a mile a minute.

_Pull yourself together, Sebastian. Don’t do this again_

  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  


**May 2002**

_‘I’ve got the lead role!!!’_

Sebastian was ecstaticwhen he’d received the news that he’d been cast as the leading role in a college production, this was his time to prove his worth, and his talent, to more than his classmates, it was something to be proud of. The moment he’d heard, he couldn’t resist texting Eleanor to inform her, she’d hyped him up so much prior to his audition, and the evening before the cast was schedule to announced, it meant a lot to share this with her.

 _‘I knew you’d do it, superstar! Don’t forget me when you’re famous. So proud of you’_  

Little did he know, a few hours later, no amount of lead roles could stop him from the hollow feeling that was about to settle in his stomach.

“Seba,” that was all Sebastian could make out from her broken sobs on the other end of the telephone line.

“You’re scaring me, El. What’s happened?”

“I’m leaving next week.”

“Leaving where?”

“New York, - _America_. I’m going back to England.”

And just like that, the bottom of Sebastian’s world just about gave way. He almost couldn’t breathe at the thought of her leaving, the thought of her, not only not being in the same state, but not even the same country. Most of all, he noticed how she’d stopped referring to England as _home_ , like she viewed her place in the US as her home now, right where he was.

“What- I don’t understand, why? You can’t just leave.”

“My grandfather’s too ill, Seb. The doctors don’t think he’ll last the summer, and we can’t sit thousands of miles away waiting for him to go, we need to be with the family.”

“I’m really sorry - I didn’t - I knew he was bad, but I didn’t think it would be so soon, I thought you all had more time.”

“We did too, but he can’t hang on forever. Everyone needs us more than ever.”

“When will you be back?”

“When he’s gone, I presume. God, I feel sick even thinking about it,” she choked out a sob and sniffled, her throat cleared to try to keep her emotions under control, but it was useless, Sebastian could hear her heartbreak as clear as day. And he couldn’t do a thing to help her.

Being back in her home country felt more foreign than America ever had despite the years she’d spent growing up there. The world there felt so _small_ , she’d outgrown it all and it was borderline suffocating. She missed New York more than she has anticipated. But she was right where she was supposed to be, this she had told Sebastian a few times over the past two weeks.

He could hear the exhaustion in her voice every time they spoke, despite how limited, and short, their calls were. Everything about this situation was draining.

_“Stay safe, okay? I can’t look after you when we’re an ocean apart.”_

However, the more weeks that passed, the less their contact remained, which in itself had become a drain on them both. Calls full of sadness, missing each other, hating how life was panning out around them. The calls became less frequent, proving to be far too expensive to keep up with, and poor timing played a part too, mostly when Sebastian was out with his other friends, creating a situation too loud and disruptive to hold a five-minute conversation. And even when they did try to reach one another, they were mostly met with voicemails which turned into multiple missed calls. Emails became few and far between and Sebastian was beginning to lose all hope in any remaining contact. It felt like a lost cause.

She’d been away two months when all communication ceased.

His calls remained unanswered, emails ignored, text messages unread and then he realised she wasn’t coming back _home_ any time soon. It was the not knowing what was going on with her that caused him the most stress and upset. _Was she okay? Has her grandfather passed? Was she grieving? Has she given up on me?_ He didn’t want to think selfishly, but he was confused and hurt by her radio silence.

By the time late August rolled around, college had started again, and he poured himself into his studies and his friends, hoping she would give him a sign sooner or later, but he’d somewhat resigned himself to the fact this was _it._ At least for now. So, he’d stopped hovering his thumb over the call button on her contact, he’d caught himself walking in the direction of her apartment and stopped and turned the other way, he tried to continue with his life like she was taking a very long leave of absence, which in a way, he supposed she was. But for how long, he didn’t know.  
  


*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

  
“ _Eleanor.”_

 _“_ Hi, Sebastian,” there had been hundreds of things he’d wanted to ask her over the years, with a hundred more answers he’d anticipated, but he was at a loss for words. His mind was blank.

_How was this possible?_

Eleanor’s expression left him feeling uncomfortable and he couldn’t move, nor look away. Instead, she dropped her head and her eyes lowered to his shoes before closing. He could still read her just as well as he could a decade ago, and that was a far odder thought than he thought it would have been **.** The thought that had sent his head reeling was, despite all that had happened, and how much he had missed her terribly, he didn’t know how he felt seeing her again. Was he happy? Was he sad? Was he angry? Was he relieved? Or had he reached the ambivalent stage?

Whatever he deduced his feelings be, either tonight or years down the line, he’d have to get used to having her around again even if for the sake of his friends. That was if she’d even stick around this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [ohstardust](https://ohstardust.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat about characters, writing or just a general chit chat.
> 
> There is also an accompanying _[playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/iamsamball/playlist/09qvd7G38vEBlXJpu9mQ6C?si=22B3dVVxT2uuSGvAHypd-g)_ for this series  & a _[Pinterest board](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/ohstardust/rose-coloured-boy/)_.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian & Eleanor are finally having the reconciliation talk and I’m so here for the angst. Also, I need a Chace-esque friend in my life. 
> 
> Please please please let me know what you think because I have no clue if anyone is even reading this xo

**AUGUST 2011  
**   
Everything about this situation should have felt far stranger than it did, and considering it did indeed feel rather bizarre, that was really saying something. A mere two weeks had passed since Damon’s birthday, just two weeks since Sebastian had sauntered back into Eleanor’s life, yet here she was, downing Sambuca shots at his birthday function, wondering why on earth she was here at all. As far as she was concerned,  _she shouldn’t be._  Sebastian had been rather insistent though, acting relatively nonchalant about it to his friends, not taking into account how they’d known him far too long, and knew him too well, to let the shrug of his shoulders throw them off the true force of him extending their invites to Eleanor.  
  
It was evident it meant a great deal to him for her to be there. But Eleanor wasn’t exactly sure why.

If she was to be honest with herself, seeing him again after all of these years, had sent her head spinning, and she felt more guilty, and terrible, than she had throughout the time following her disappearance. All she wanted to do was have a sit down conversation with him, explain what had happened and try to make him see her teenage motivations, she owed that to the both of them. But she was ashamed, and too tremendously nervous to even approach him, let alone invite him to lunch for a perhaps involuntary walk down memory lane. So, instead of confronting her fears head on, she downed as many shots as possible and took whatever hard spirit she could get her hands on.  
  
Eleanor had spent the better part of half an hour trying to casually glance in his direction, aiming to be as discreet as possible which was an utter shit show considering the amount of alcohol she’d knocked back. Her body was loose and her eyes were wandering despite the conversation she was in the middle of with Lisa and Sasha. He looked really well; his face, and body, had slimmed down, his smile was as bright as she’d known it to be, and his confidence had grown a considerable amount since college. But she could still see through the facade he put up as he commandeered a room full of people. She didn’t remember him looking quite as stunning as he did now and that thought haunted her. This was dangerous territory, all things considered.  
  
“Earth to Eleanor.”  
  
“Shit sorry, Lis, what were you saying?”  
  
“I don’t think it matters, it seems you’re far more interested in the birthday boy.”  
  
She shrugged her shoulders and grimaced at her friends, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure sure honey,” Lisa smirked over at Sebastian and back to Eleanor, “whatever you say.”  
  
“How are you doing after the whole- y’know -  _situation._ ” Sasha nervously glanced at her friend, stomach sinking a little when she watched the older woman shift uncomfortably, throwing back another shot and wincing.  
  
“If you’re referring to Rhys then I’m feeling pretty dire actually,” she coughed and cleared her throat, her eyes downcast as she fiddled with a charm on her bracelet, the sharp edges pressed into the pads of her fingers for a moment, “I get it, I really do, but it doesn’t hurt any less. Still feel like I’ve been winded.”  
  
The thing with Rhys was, he’d been the longest standing boyfriend she’d had to date. It had only been nine months, one month longer than than her last relationship had been, but she connected with him,  _really_ connected with him, far more than she had with the others and she felt more heartbroken and cut up than the combination of all her past, failed relationships.  _I’m twenty-nine years old,_ she’d cried to Damon last week,  _is this how it’s always going to be? A short in-between relationship?_  
  
“When does he leave?”  
  
“Tomorrow, he’s catching the four thirty-five pm flight from JFK.”  
  
“Are you going to say goodbye?”  
  
“We thought it was best not to, everything we had to say has already been said. I’d only say something stupid to stop him leaving anyway, and there’s no use. He needs a new life, not me. I’ve made my peace with that.”  
  
“What’s the next step?”  
  
“Pay more attention to the relationships I still have, work on the ones that need mending,” she caught Sebastian’s gaze and they raised their glasses in celebration as they exchanged small smiles, “Or I could just get utterly trashed and pass out in the bathroom. I’m good either way.”  
  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
  
Chace dragged her to brunch a few days after the party. His concern with her break-up was increasing tenfold and, although he didn’t want to push the situation that was surrounding them, regarding their mutual Romanian friend, he figured the older man could pull her out of her sour mood if they were given the chance to hang-out. Besides, he’d missed the other man, months having passed by since they’d been able to catch up properly, without loud thumping music, too many people or a quick phone call. He told himself he wasn’t there just to be the buffer between the two - he wanted to spend time with his friends - he  _definitely_ wasn’t using himself as an excuse. Eleanor wasn’t so easily convinced.  
  
“You don’t have to hash all this shit out today, okay? I just thought it would be cool for us to hang out together, and maybe you two can talk,” she raised her head to glare at him, a sour expression overtaking her face and took interest in the magazine between her fingers, again, “ _fine,_ make small talk then.”  
  
“Better bring a knife, ‘cause there’ll be plenty of tension to cut,” she sassed as he plucked the offending article from her hands and flung it on the coffee table. Chace was all too familiar with the stubborn nature of his friend, had been on the receiving end of her foul moods more times than he cares to remember, but he matched her in his persistence and wasn’t likely to take no for an answer from her when he had her best interests at heart. They both loved their friends equally; would bail them out of jail, pay an extortionate ransom  to save their lives, would lie in the gutter with them at four am after a ridiculous night out, would risk themselves for the sake of the others to keep them out of harms way, but beneath it all that, Eleanor & Chace had a special bond, a connection that had them both migrating together and the Brit likes to think he’s the sibling she never had.  
  
“ _Fine,_ fine. I’m going,” she locked the apartment door behind them and dragged her light denim jacket over her arms, grimacing at the man and pulled her hair loose from her collar.  
  
“Stop being a Bitter Betty for two minutes and deal with this, you’ll thank me later.”  
  
  
Small talk with your former best friend is as horrible as it sounds. Fifteen minutes into the relatively stilted conversation, Eleanor debated excusing herself to head to the bathroom to make a hasty escape through the window, but this wasn’t some ridiculous rom-com that would resolve itself after a tongue-in-cheek failed escape and a mildly angsty shouted explanation and apology, this was her life and she knew full well she had to be a woman about this and suck it up, guilt and awkwardness be damned. She was the picture of small smiles and politeness, interjecting in the conversation where necessary, enough to not be considered rude, and hoped it would suffice for the men in her company. Chace wasn’t stupid though, and he wouldn’t allow her to sit there with little engagement, that hadn’t been his plan or what he’d wanted to happen. He began telling silly tales from the past year, all hilarious and mildly embarrassing (mostly on Eleanor’s part) until she began to whine and pout like a child and correct him when his storytelling went intentionally awry.  
  
She flung her arm out and smacked his chest, grinning as he barked out a slight winded laugh, “Don’t listen to a word he says, Seb. He doesn’t know his arse from his elbow.”  
  
“So I’ve noticed, he’s all talk, isn’t he?” The older of the two men laughed behind his hand, comically whispering loudly to her, glancing over at the Texan who did his best to not appear bemused. And just like that she felt the tension slipping away, almost like he’d been waiting for her to be the one to break the resolve, to slice through the top hardened layers of awkwardness until it hit common ground and lightness.  
  
Eleanor snickered and nodded, one elbow bent on the table to prop up her chin and the other hand patting the younger’s bicep, “That’s our Chace.”  
  
“He’s a character, that’s for sure.”  
  
“Thanks man, knew I could count on you.”  
  
“Idiot.” Eleanor stated fondly.  
  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
  
**SEPTEMBER 2011  
**   
__**‘Hi Sebastian, it’s Eleanor. I hope you don’t mind Chace giving me your number, I just wanted to see if you’d maybe like to meet me for lunch? We have a lot to talk about and I want to try and clear the air between us. I understand if you don’t want to, but please let me know either way.’  
****_  
_**The tone of her text message to Sebastian felt so foreign and wrong, it was too formal and uncomfortable to be sending to someone who spent too many years being her best friend, who knew too much of her early life to deal with formalities, but she constantly reminded herself that they weren’t those people anymore, and she had no right to keep a jovial and light tone with him these days. She’d have to earn that again - if he allowed her to that is.  
  
She’d busied herself for a few hours, following her sent message, and, for the most part, her apartment was gleaming. Her head was buried in the oven as she worked the scrubbing brush over the appliance, the scratching and scraping of the bristles was almost loud enough to distract her from the ping of her phone, but she’d faintly heard it, the sound echoing louder and louder in her head as she began to think of a hundred things Sebastian could have responded with. And then she began to fuss over the idea that it wasn’t him at all, so she stayed scrubbing for a while longer and hummed along to the radio to block out the noise in her head.  
  
Eleanor was borderline embarrassed by her behaviour that afternoon, her lack of being able to remain calm and adult-like within this situation had her scowling at herself in the bathroom mirror in annoyance, “You’re an idiot, Egan, pull yourself together woman.”  
  
A steaming mug of tea sat on her coffee table begging to be refilled whilst her phone sat mockingly beside it. She spent a moment or two trying to focus on the television set, and some idle programme that was playing, but it was no use, she needed to rip the band-aid off and deal with whatever fate Sebastian had chosen for them. She tried to carefully pull on the cup despite her slightly shaking hands, hissing as the hot liquid sloshed over the rim and settled on her bare legs, and pulled it to her chest, curling into the arm of the sofa with her phone in her other hand.  
  
**‘ _Hey El. No no it’s fine, lunch sounds good, 1pm tomorrow at The Distillery?’  
_** __  
**’Sounds perfect, see you tomorrow’  
**  
“Is this as weird for you as it is for me?” She huffed out a laugh and wiped her palms along the thighs of her jeans, fidgety and anxious and wondering what had possessed her to deem this a good idea. They’d been inside the restaurant for five minutes and she already wanted to bolt, she’d felt that the moment she’d walked through the door and found Sebastian sat at a table, thumbing through his phone with an apprehensive expression. He’d slowly placed it on the tabletop the second he noticed her and slipped her a soft smile that lightly pulled on the corner of his eyes. Sebastian had always been that person to ground her, but he was suddenly making her feel flighty and her stomach churned at the shift of his role.  
  
“Well it’s not feeling all too normal for me, so I’m going to say yes.”  
  
“I didn’t mean for this to be awkward, I’m sorry.”  
  
His tongue wet his lips and he folded his arms to rest on the table, his body arching forward, “It’s not awkward, I’m just still trying to process you being here again.”  
  
“I really fucked up.”  
  
“You’re telling me,” he huffed out a laugh and shook his head, “for years I wanted an explanation, I mean I still do, of course I do, but I don’t know how much it matters now.”  
  
“Please don’t say that,” she weakly pleaded, not prepared for his nonchalance, “of course it still matters, isn’t that why you’re here?”  
  
“I guess so.”  
  
“Look - Seb- Sebastian - I don’t want you to feel obligated to try with me, I understand if you want nothing to do with me at all, but I’m not willing to walk away from our friends just to make it easy for us. It sounds selfish, I get that, and maybe ten years ago I would have walked away just to avoid conflict, but I’m not that person anymore and it’s important that you know that, I  _need_  you to know that it’s not because I don’t care, it’s much the opposite.”  
  
“ _Christ,_ I don’t feel  _obligated,_ Eleanor,” his eyes softened and she felt herself sinking when his hand touched the inner of her elbow to reassure her, stop her from running, “sure- I was surprised when I first saw you, I didn’t think I would again, and I felt conflicted for a bit - it was just unexpected, that’s all. It’s been a really long time and I’d adjusted to life without you. But I’m willing to bet that this isn’t just some coincidence that we’ve crossed paths again, you’ve gotta be here for a reason. I have the chance to know you again, and that means something to me.”  
  
“It shouldn’t do, you have every right to hate me, I’m not naive to think otherwise.”  
  
“I won’t ever hate you, and y’know that really. I just wanna know why you gave up on me. On  _us._ I just - I want to know what I did wrong _,_ El. _”_ Eleanor all but gasped at his words, they felt like a punch to the stomach and she was momentarily winded, of all the scenarios she’d mulled over, his self-blame was not something she’d contemplated, because she hadn’t blamed him. Not much at least.  
  
“It wasn’t - ever - it was  _never_ your fault, Seb, not at all. And I didn’t give up on you. It was never like that.”  
  
His voice became more frustrated as she skirted the conversation, the lack of answers was starting to wear him down. He lowered his head more to take a good look at her, his eyes sought her out and he wanted her to feel the extent of aggravation because he supposed she  _did_  somewhat deserve it. “Then what  _was_  it like? One minute my best friend was living in the city, the happiest I think I’d ever seen her, we were still as close as we had ever been - or at least I thought we were - and then the next minute she leaves for England, so closed off that she doesn’t speak to me for almost ten years. There wasn’t any real warning, it was all and then nothing,” he sighed and scrubbed his palm over his face, fingers digging into his closed eyes, “one day I had you and the next I didn’t.”  
  
There was a medium pause whilst she collected her words, tried to find the right way to tell him, to make him see her reasoning even if she questioned and doubted it herself, “I’ve thought about it so many times since then and nothing makes sense - at least not properly, and it always sounds so stupid - but it all became too much.  _Life_ became too much. Conflicting time zones, missed phone calls, unanswered emails - everything felt different and it felt like the end before I’d even decided to call it quits. There were times when our calls were inconvenient, you were busy with your friends, and I didn’t want to begrudge you that happiness, but it made me miss you more and I felt so lonely being away from you. At one point I didn’t know if I was even going to return, I thought about dropping out of NYU and staying with my family.”  
  
“I tried so hard to give you as much of my time as you wanted, I didn’t  _want_  you to feel that way.”  
  
“I know, and that’s why I don’t want you blaming yourself for any of this, because you’re not at fault. My anxiety just grew worse and I allowed it to get the better of me, I thought too much about how well you were doing with school and it felt inevitable that you’d move on without me sooner or later - it’s unfair to think that of you, trust me I know. I know- _knew -_  you better than that, but that felt feasible at the time. You don’t know how much I’ve agonised over the ever since. But the space felt too much, for the first time in our friendship it felt like hard work and it shouldn’t have done. All I thought was  _it’s never going to get easier, even when we’re in the same city again._ We were  _too_  dependenton each other, too close for that to not matter. In some ways it felt like a relationship. I felt like all I’d do was hold you back, you didn’t need to be hanging on, waiting for me to come home, at the time it felt like it was the best course of action for us both. I thought it was what we needed.”  
  
“But you didn’t give me that choice, El!” He barked out an exasperated whisper to avoid drawing attention. Sebastian had always had the most expressive eyes of all of the people Eleanor had known, his emotions lay right within them and the look he gave her had her understanding the extent of her selfish actions far better than his words ever could. They’d softened and looked awfully sad, she hadn’t expected him to feel this way after a decade, hadn’t realised she’d meant quite that much to him, or to anyone for that matter. “You should never have taken that choice away from me, you took the one constant thing in my life away from me, that anchor, and I felt like I was floating around, not knowing what the fuck was going on or whether you were okay.”  
  
Her voice lowered and cracked, “I know, I had no right.”  
  
She couldn’t look at Sebastian, all she felt was shame and embarrassment and hurt, realising that she’d not only hurt herself, but she’d really hurt him too. Her eyes watered and she willed them to clear, she didn’t want to be upset over this in a public place, didn’t want to express this in front of Sebastian, it wasn’t fair on either of them.  
  
“I didn’t think it would matter to you as much, but now I know I was wrong.“  
  
She rubbed at her eyes furiously and kept her head lowered.  
  
“You couldn’t be more wrong if you tried, draguta. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”  
  
Sebastian watched the tears as they pooled in Eleanor’s eyes when she raised her head to gauge his expression, “Mean? As in still do?”  
  
Sebastian pulled out his wallet and threw a few notes down on the table between them before looping his arm around her and pulling her out back, behind the restaurant, “Of course you still do, you loser.”  
  
Her tears dripped off her chin and her body shook, her emotions had burst out of her and Sebastian could do nothing more than wrap her up in his arms and rub her back soothingly.  
  
“Please don’t cry, you’re here, I’m here, we’ll get it right this time,” her head stayed buried in his chest as she tried to calm herself down, so Sebastian ran his fingers through her hair and held her tighter, “just don’t go making my decisions for me, don’t shut me out.”  
  
“Promise.”  
  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
  
**DECEMBER 2011  
**   
New Year had always left a sour taste in Eleanor’s mouth (the alcohol), an ache in her bones (the loneliness) and a longing to hold onto a year for a little longer (the need for more time). There was nothing quite like the feeling of leaving good, or bad, memories behind in the yester-year, the nostalgia it left in it’s wake was nauseating and she’d always laughed as she told anyone who would listen about how she’d prefer to sleep from the 30th December to the 2nd of January, just bypass the whole shebang. This year was no different, she still wanted to curl up in her apartment, block out the world and pretend it didn’t exist for those few days, but her re-kindled friendship had put a firm stop to that and he’d insisted their group reconvene for a ‘celebratory piss-up’ ( _Sebastian’s literal words,_  they’d caught her by surprise too and she’d been unable to stifle a snorting laugh because  _maybe he really had spent too many years around her)._ She was still trying to make amends despite his insistence that he’d more than forgiven her, and if he said  _jump,_  she’d willingly ask  _how high?_  to appease him as much as possible.  
  
That was potentially, or rather most likely, the reason she found herself 4 glasses of wine in with an arm thrown around Sebastian’s shoulder and her other glass filled arm in the air singing  _Don’t Go Breaking My Heart_. It was ridiculous, and hilarious, and reminded her of that New Year of 2001, when they were still students singing along to Billy Joel. Her life had come full circle and right then she couldn’t be anymore thankful for the events that had led to them standing there, a decade later, in a similar, yet wholly different, situation. Life had its funny ways of working.  
  
As midnight struck, the pair had embraced each other tightly over a defining cheer of a new year and clinking of glasses, light kisses of forgiveness and new starts were shared between them, and Eleanor had a very good feeling about the year to come for the first time in a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [ohstardust](https://ohstardust.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat about characters, writing or just a general chit chat.
> 
> There is also an accompanying _[playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/iamsamball/playlist/09qvd7G38vEBlXJpu9mQ6C?si=22B3dVVxT2uuSGvAHypd-g)_ for this series  & a _[Pinterest board](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/ohstardust/rose-coloured-boy/)_.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay of this chapter, uni has been draining all my energy and I've been struggling to actually finish my chapters. I kinda love this chapter though, especially Eleanor’s birthday party. 
> 
> Please please please let me know what you think because I have no clue if anyone is even reading this. Thanks honeys xo

**SPRING 2012  
**   
Eleanor shoved her phone under her ear, trapping it between her shoulder and shifted her shopping bags between both hands to evenly distribute the weight. Her shirt was starting to stick to her and she didn’t dare glance in any store windows as she passed by, couldn’t bear to witness the frizzy state her hair undoubtedly had become. The city was awfully hot this month, humidity worse than normal, and everyday tasks felt more like a strenuous chore than anything else. It was sickening to admit they hadn’t even entered summer yet, the end of spring still petering on, “I don’t know, he said he starts filming that new show in Philly, early May, so he won’t be home.”   
  
Chace sighed, she could almost  _see_  him scrubbing a balled-up fist across his forehead, his tone dropped, and she hated his pitying voice. She hated how it made her feel childish without intention, “I’m sorry, Eegs, he didn’t tell me. I know how important it is for him be here.”  
  
“It’s just one day, there’s plenty more to celebrate, get pissed up, make horrible decisions. He’s not missing anything really. It’s just my birthday, nothing special.”  _Lie._  
  
“But it’s your  _thirtieth_.”  
  
“If you bring that up one more time, Christopher Chace Crawford, then you won’t be seeing your twenty-seventh.  
  
The ridiculous snort down the receiver made her chuckle and she could imagine him raising an eyebrow as he spoke and teasingly replied, “Now is that a threat or a promise?”  
  
“Both.”  
  
“Have I mentioned how much I love feisty women?”  
  
Her head instinctively shook despite him not being able to see her gesture and her eyes rolled. She struggled to stick her key in the lock of her apartment door just as Damon popped his head out of his adjacent home. Eleanor raised a few fingers to wave, careful not to drop the well-placed groceries before he grabbed her keys from her, muttering  _“You always have to make a point of multi-tasking” and_  unlocked the door. Her tongue poked out in response and she freed one hand of bags, setting it inside the doorway before blowing him a kiss and shutting her door.  
  
“You just like getting your ass kicked by women far stronger than you. It would be classed as borderline sadistic if it wasn’t so hilarious.”  
  
“Oh Eleanor, you think you’re so funny.”  
  
“I don’t  _think_ so, Chacey, I  _know_ so.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Eleanor’s birthday fell late May, she protested her distain for birthday celebrations to all of her friends at the mere mention of her impending day, but secretly her heart swelled a little more knowing they wanted to celebrate with her and give themselves over to her for one day. And okay, maybe she just liked to pretend she hated birthday’s and growing older.  
  
She gave overall responsibility of a party of sorts to her more than willing friends and, against her better judgement, trusted them to throw something together that wouldn’t humiliate her beyond all belief, nor turn into the spectacle that Damon’s party had been. She wasn’t quite sure what to expect, or whether her trust had been ill-placed, but she hoped the girls would at least rein the men in, or vice-versa.  
  
Lisa arrived at her apartment at seven pm on the dot with a ridiculously heart-warming bouquet of balloons, and her fiancé Harry, just as Sasha was finishing off the remains of her prosecco, shrieking to Eleanor  _You’re gorgeous, now hurry up!_  
  
There was a chorus of wolf-whistles and catcalls when Eleanor twirled into the room with a red painted grin spreading from ear to ear, and her arms outstretched,  _ta-da._ She was a vision in her non-traditional get-up, all ivory and thigh high splits, strappy camisole and stilettos, she boasted of her becoming’s of the mature party girl-cum-woman and broke out into a laugh, her face scrunched up. Sasha threw her arms around Eleanor’s neck and humorously squashed the older girl under her chin, despite their height differences, and cooed, “My babies grow up so fast!”  
  
“Shut up and grab your shoes,” Lisa’s eyes rolled, and she grinned at the display already starting before her. She’d promised to have the girls at the party in a timely fashion though and she didn’t fancy her chances at facing Damon’s flamboyant wrath after a gin or two.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
The sight of delicately strung outdoor lights draped over the railings, the majority of her friends mingling and the sheer volume of what her closest friends had beautifully pulled together, has her in tears before she’s even taken a sip of courtesy champagne. It was dazzling and glittering and embodied her personality in one rooftop setting. She was floored by the preparation and the venue, but it felt almost  _too much_ , Eleanor felt on the verge of unworthy of their efforts, no matter how many protests had claimed otherwise over so many years. Her thumb delicately ran under her waterlines to mop up her emotions and she huffed out a laugh to satisfy the concern on the girls’ faces.  
  
She blinked a few times and waved a hand in the air above her head, “I’m fine.”  
  
“Good, we don’t want Alice in Wonderland drowning on her birthday now, do we?” Damon had clocked the girls the second they reached the top of the stairs and hastily excused himself to grab a fresh glass of fizz from the bar. He thrust it in her hand and pecked her cheek, inserting himself in the conversation as he often did.  
  
“How the hell did you pull this together? How much must this have even cost?”  
  
“What are you worrying about that for? This is all for you, El.” Lisa gushed.  
  
“But I don’t - how - why?”  
  
“Why what?”  
  
“Why all this trouble for me? I don’t get it.”  
  
“Clearly not, but you’re dense so that explains it all,” he smirked and grunted when the back Eleanor’s hand collided with his chest, “You don’t get how many people wanted to give you a special night that was  _yours._ You’re so busy sorting everyone else’s life out, but when does everyone get the chance to do something for you?”  
  
Eleanor scrunched her nose up and knocked back half of her drink, “God, I think I just threw up, that was so nice.”  
  
“Shut up or I’ll send everyone home.”  
  
“Thank you, I still don’t get it but I’m really grateful, I don’t deserve you guys one bit.”  
  
“You’re getting mushy, go have another drink,” Damon playfully swatted her on the bottom and hollered after her as she made her way to the bar, “You look gorgeous baby!” She turned about ten different shades of crimson alone and raised her middle finger to him, “Dick,” she snickered.  
  
For someone who performed to large crowds night after night, and claimed a career in acting, she embarrassed all too easily in everyday life. She was a vision of blushes and inflamed cheeks when she was herself, head ducked to hide her face when attention was on  _Eleanor Egan_  and not her latest character. If anything, the stark difference between her personality and stage persona differentiated her from who she was pretending to be, but through it all she remained herself, bashful, clumsy, playful and a touch shy when situations weren’t under her control. But it made her  _her_ , and if her friends loved her, she couldn’t be too critical of what she viewed as her shortcomings.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
The sun began to set shortly after eight, the darkening of the sky seemingly brought more people to their rooftop, more friends she hadn’t seen in so long, past work colleagues, people she didn’t expect to see until another opening night for a show she probably wouldn’t even be in, but it warmed her knowing that they’d made the effort for her. Bright, sparkling personalities all at one function,  _for her,_ made her a little dizzy, and she didn’t think it was the fizz working its way through her body or the height at which she was standing.  
  
Her back was rested against the fencing on the far east side of the terrace, taking a breather and a quiet moment to herself, wanting to observe everyone from the side-lines, to take a mental snapshot of the occasion. Maybe she was a little drunk, it always made her more sentimental. There was dancing, and laughing, and couples kissing and holding one another, and a playlist of her favourite music that she didn’t think anyone would even have taken note of, and the whole thing had her heart fit to burst. It was safer not to dwell on those there with their partners, being single on her thirtieth birthday left a bitter taste that she wanted to forget for just one evening. She tilted her head back and closed her eyes, letting the cooler evening air wash over her skin and sober her enough that she could still drink a lot more, her lips were upturned, and she was the most content she’d felt in some time.  
  
Her eyes blinked open at the sound of movement surrounding her, the softer footsteps purposefully careful to avoid startling her, the crinkle of a crisp shirt and jeans-on-jeans. Her momentary peace being broken.  
  
“I’m drunk and hallucinating,” she muttered upon the sight beside her, taking in the younger man’s full form.  
  
“Why? What are you seeing?”  
  
“You, and you actually made an effort to dress nicely for once.”  
  
“Then in that case, you’re probably pretty drunk, but definitely not hallucinating.”  
  
“You’re making a habit of surprise appearances, Mr Stan.”  
  
“I’m… what’s the word? - Elusive?” He scrunched his nose and squinted his eyes before grinning at her, all white teeth and sharper features and _sunshine_.  
  
“Chace fucking Crawford.”  
  
“I think Chace is his middle name actually.”  
  
She grabbed his face in an iron clad grip and kissed both of his cheeks before she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a tight embrace, “Shut up Seba. I’m just glad you’re here.” She pressed a clumsy kiss to his jaw and sighed with her nose buried under his ear. Later on she’d remember that and file that away in a folder titled  _things that I absolutely did not do no matter how drunk I was._  But she was just so  _happy_ that he was here, even when he’d told her he wouldn’t be, had sworn that he’d be in the middle of filming a new television show and would have to miss it no matter how much he hated to not celebrate her landmark birthday with her. Eleanor had really wanted to see him today.  
  
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, draguţă,” he whispered sweetly in her ear and pulled back to kiss her forehead.  
  
She’d spent the majority of the following hour and a half making pleasantries with those she knew, chatting, receiving drinks and gifts, exchanging compliments, and questioning how some others even got in, hoping they at least knew someone that she did. It was exhausting, and she was five minutes away from throwing her sandals off the roof, but she danced around for a while, swaying and moving with her friends, some old, some very new, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks burning. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d smiled as much as she had that evening. A few girls excused themselves for a breather and she took the opportunity to scope out her smaller group of friends, to sit with them for a few moments and thank them extensively once again. Sebastian pulled on her hand as she started to pass by him, and she stumbled into his lap with a wicked giggle, seating herself on his knee.  
  
“You clean up real fucking good,” Sebastian growled into her ear, his grip around her waist tightened. Her body relaxed and she rested back against his chest, seemingly unaware of their friends’ gaze, who watched them with amused expressions, “I could say the same for you, Stan.”  
  
He ran his index finger over her exposed thigh, pressing a few fingers into her flesh teasingly and grinned into her neck, “you smell good too.”  
  
“How much have you had to drink?”  
  
”Just enough to be honest with you,” she could feel his lips ghosting over the nape of her neck, spiking every nerve ending making her shiver. She was unsure how to deal with  _this_ version of her friend, the flirty, confident, one that was more candid and open with her than he had been in the past year. The lines in her head were blurring and she couldn’t fend him off no matter how much she tried, so she laughed it off, grabbing his hand resting on her thigh and lacing their fingers together, keeping him close in a capacity she was more used to and safe with. This she could handle, this was familiar territory, notwhatever  _that_ was. His hands more or less stayed to himself for the next fifteen minutes, just absently rubbing his thumb over her wrist that was resting on his, his arm still firmly holding her to him whilst his other gripped his beer bottle.  
  
Damon clinked his glass to grab the attention of their group, quietly enough not to alert the whole party, but enough that those seated around their table would hear and hush their conversations, “Ellie Bellie, I’m gonna make a speech so prepare yourself.”  
  
“What have I told you about calling me that? Wanker”  
  
“You know you love it really.” She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but smiled affectionately at her close friend, “So, we’re saving the big speech for when we’re barely able to form full sentences, just to really embarrass you, but I’ve got a little something to say on behalf of this bunch of misfits.  
  
“The moment I met your ridiculously dramatic ass, I knew we’d be best friends from the get go. Well, either that or I’d hate you for outshining me. Luckily – for you - it was the former. You’re a pain in the ass, and honestly El, I mean that in the nicest way possible. But you’re also the glue now, what holds us idiots all together and I don’t think we realised just how much we needed you until we got you,” Eleanor tried to smile around the tears forming, biting her lip to keep them under control, but she was intoxicated and sentimental and she was just so  _happy_ , she couldn’t explain it all without turning to mush. “You’re crazy talented, stupidly beautiful,  _y’know if you’re into that sorta thing_ , and you’re abnormally kind-hearted. You’re a breath of fresh air, El, and we love you. Happy birthday, grandma.”  
  
Her friends raised their glasses and cheered for her,  _hip hip hooray,_  all laughing at her crimson cheeks and her palms pressed to them to cover her face.Sebastian buried his face in her hair, lips pressed to the base of her neck, kissing it with a smile. He patted her hip to let her be pulled up by Damon. The older man wrapped her up in his arms and Sasha and Chace flung their arms around the pair to pull them into huddle with another loud cheer. Everyone took their turns to pull her close, give her their best wishes and kiss her cheeks. She loved her friends more than anything.  
  
She turned back to Sebastian who was still spread out on small sofa, legs wide apart, slumped in the seat with a lazy grin and his fixed stare on her. He looked so good and she feared she’d be fighting this thought off for a while. Instead she extended her hand to him, taking note of the slow opening chords of a  _Darren Criss_ song playing, one of her guilty pleasures, “C’mon Seb, we haven’t slowed danced since prom.” He didn’t reply, just let her pull him from the seat and followed after her to the makeshift dance floor.  
  
They were close, hands resting on hips, around necks, her head resting on his shoulder as they swayed, everything felt normal and as it should be, like they hadn’t spent so long apart. Her fingers softly stroked the curls of his hair at the nape of his neck and he sighed, eyes slipping shut as he held her tighter to him, tight enough to indicate he had no intention of letting her go.  
  
_Don't you want the way I feel?_  
_Don't you want the way I feel?_  
_Don't you want the way I feel for you?_  
  
Eleanor pulled herself back far enough to face him and shot him a small yet thoroughly content smile, “Seb?”  
  
He hummed in response and his mouth mimicked hers, his eyes sweeping over her face.  
  
“You should stay at mine tonight - if you want to that is - just like old times. Just like teenage us.”  
  
Sebastian knew full well how unlikely it was that he’d be able to deny her anything, despite the cheeky, hard-to-get persona he showed to every other woman that crossed his path, “Sure, like old times.” Her smiled widened and she kissed his cheek, all bright and lively and all trace of intensity vanished.  
  
Hours later, after a few too many more shots and flutes of fizzy champagne, once everyone began to retreat from the party, Sebastian  & Eleanor stumbled into her apartment in a flurry of giggles and anecdotes. They curled up in her bed, facing one another with amused looks and she rested her open palm on his cheek, “I’ve missed getting drunk with you and cuddling in my bed, Seba.”  
  
_“_ And I’ve missed you calling me that. _”_  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
**AUGUST 2012  
**   
The heat was almost scolding that last week in August. The sun was beating down over the city, the streets were lined with an impossible amount of residents and tourists alike and it almost would have been too much had Eleanor not already been living there for so many years.  
  
Sasha had called by her apartment at eight am to coerce her into a run. Eleanor naturally groaned and protested for a good five minutes before she threw on some clothes and her trainers, knowing how desperately she needed to get outside for fresh air and to stretch her legs.  
  
“So get this, I was scrolling through my Instagram last night - because you know how ridiculously obsessed I am - and I noticed I’d received a bucket load of mentions and comments from Seb’s fans. And like, I’m sure they’re all perfectly fine and normal, or at least to a certain degree, but they have a hell of an imagination between them.”  
  
“Oh god, what now?”  
  
“Apparently him and I are fucking,” Sasha snorted, “Or if we’re not, they think we should be.”  
  
“They’re not wrong there then.”  
  
“Wow Sash, say what you really mean, why don’t you?” Eleanor glared at her younger friend and grimaced, her legs slowing down to a stop to drink from her water bottle, “You know there’s nothing going on, right?”  
  
Sasha came to a stop beside her and followed suit, heavily breathing out, “It doesn’t mean there shouldn’t be.”  
  
“I hate you, piss off. Seriously, you attend a guy’s birthday party and suddenly everyone thinks you’re screwing each other.”  
  
Eleanor caught the raised eyebrow of her friend and watched the small smirk form, already hating the direction of this conversation and wishing profusely that she hadn’t brought it up to begin with, “You only hate me because you know I’m right. Or at least you want me to be.”  
  
“What are you on about now?”  
  
“How long have you been into him?”  
  
“I’m not, now drop it. You’re like a dog with a bone.”  
  
“It’s fine, Chace’ll tell me anyway,” Sasha shrugged and started to set off again, leaving Eleanor in the dust behind her.  
  
“He’ll do no such thing, he knows when to keep his trap shut,” she shrieked behind her, legs sprinting to match pace with the other girl.  
  
“HA! Did you think no one noticed the way you were hanging off each other at both of your birthday’s?”  
  
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”  
  
“Oh,  _sure_ you don’t. Not the way he kept kissing your neck? Or you sitting in his lap? Or you spending both evenings at each other’s place.“  
  
“I’ve heard enough. It’s not like that and you know it, we’re just getting used to each other again and old habits die hard.” She didn’t mean to sound so defensive or scowling, it made sense for Sasha to thinks she did, to an onlooker their relationship looked a little less conventional and she could see it from the girl’s point of view. But it wasn’t helping her mixed feelings or whatever she was trying to work through in relation to Sebastian. Everything was tricky, her mind muddied and she didn’t want anyone else’s input when she hadn’t figured it out for herself yet.  
  
Sasha seemed to understand her tone though and made light of it all, not wanting to push and prod the other woman, “Well if you aren’t boning Seb, you should at least be boning Chace.”  
  
“I’m staying single and celibate now just for that comment.”  
  
“Yeah yeah, good luck keeping your panties on.”  
  
“Fuck you,” Eleanor choked out a laugh and paused, “Actually, there  _is_ someone, I’m going on a date on Friday.”  
  
“With a real man? Not a figment of your imagination?”  
  
“An honest-to-god real man, I know, I can hardly believe it myself.”  
  
“Well good for you, you deserve it. Now tell me  _all_ about him.”  
  
“So, his name is Patrick…”  
  
Patrick Andrews had been introduced to her at a little get together of Aaron’s a few days after Sebastian’s birthday. Aaron really liked to play matchmaker, loved to see his friends happy and was partial to meddling when he thought they needed an extra push. He’d been trying to set Eleanor & Patrick up for months despite Eleanor’s insistence that she was perfectly fine staying single for a while. In fact, she vaguely remembered Aaron mentioning him after a show last year, adamant they’d get on like a house on fire. He rationalised it, saying she might just gain another friend from him if nothing else, and who was she to turn down even more friends?  
  
Aaron marched her over to Patrick within ten minutes of stepping over the threshold to his apartment, eager to have them talking and mixing and finding out what things they had in common, hoping there was some common ground there at least. He was horribly smug when he’d glance their way every so often and find them still engrossed in conversation, everyone else long forgotten.  
  
She’d really enjoyed his company, his intelligent conversation, his witty humour and his sparkling eyes that made her want to keep them focused on her a while longer. He’d talked about his work as a book editor, his eclectic group of friends that he adored and the more he spoke of his passions, the more she was taken in by him.  
  
They’d parted ways long in the evening, after most of the party had left Aaron’s home, and she’d had an extra pink glow to her cheeks and his number stored in her phone. Part of it made her feel like a teenager all over again, different in a way she had felt with Rhys no matter how deeply she really cared for him. Patrick left a warmth in her chest and she’d needed to feel that really urgently with the way her mind had been reeling for the past few months. Perhaps this is what she needed, something more than a distraction, a  _hope_ for more than another friendship.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
**SEPTEMBER 2012  
**   
Sunday morning brunches at Eleanor  & Damon’s apartments had fast become a tradition over the past year, taking place over their takeout evenings back when Eleanor was still performing on Broadway. Busy schedules had a way of eliminating their social life altogether, so they understood how important it was to allocate a recurring time slot, a ritual if you will, to make sure they saw each other at least once a week. It was ridiculous not seeing your neighbour from one day to the next, and she missed having more free time to spend with loved ones, but her work was really thriving, and she was almost scared to calm down.  
  
The previous twelve months had been full of filming for a Broadway based television show, which was essentially a dream come true, it was a far cry from theatre but came with a whole new kind of freedom and re-shoots and she’d enjoyed it far more than she was anticipating. It was thrilling, exhausting, but no more demanding than she was used to. God, she craved the stage even more though.  
  
But through it all she kept her plans with Damon where possible and they happily alternated the cooking duty and hosting each week with the promise of the guest being on washing up duty.  _Fair’s fair,_ Eleanor had grinned after pouring the coffee and scooping eggs onto their plates.  
  
That morning she was playing the host, pancakes on the stove, freshly brewed coffee for Damon, tea for herself and orange juice cooling in the refrigerator. She was trying not to seethe too much as she debated with her friend, telling him the new gossip she’d been linked to via a fan of Sebastian’s on Twitter.  
  
“So wait, you’re telling me that you found out about him and Jennifer on TMZ?”  
  
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, Damon.”  
  
“Well fuck, I thought you knew already.”  
  
“Wait, _you_ knew?!” She screeched, she honestly hadn’t meant to raise her voice so high and sound so ungodly and feral, but if he knew then how many of their other friends knew? It didn’t matter all that much to Eleanor, at least that’s what she coerced herself into believing, she would have just really liked to have heard it directly from the horse’s mouth and not an online tabloid page that made her skin crawl and feel the sudden urge to bleach her eyes.  
  
“It’s not like it was a well-kept secret, he’s been gross about her for a couple of months.”  
  
“Huh, I really thought I was more perceptive than that, how did I miss it?”  
  
The thing is, a month ago she probably would have wanted to hurl at the thought of him in a new relationship, the first one he could flaunt and throw in her face, make her gag and feel nostalgic over for a multitude of reasons. And yes, she was a little more than miffed that she’d found this out in such a way, they talked about this kinda thing now, they were  _close_ friends again and she felt she was on her way to earning the right again - past misdemeanours aside. But now she had sweet, loving, caring Patrick and she suddenly realised the torch she held for her friend had started to dim. Those somewhat weak feelings,  _it was merely an attraction_  she huffed to herself, were fading and she was more grateful for Patrick than she had thought.  
  
Damon glanced at her over his steaming mug, trying to gauge her reaction, see how she was feeling, “I am kinda surprised he didn’t tell you about it though.”  
  
She scoffed and rolled her eyes and flicked some pancakes onto his plate, pushing forward the bowls of chopped fruit and the bottle of syrup, “It’s not like we stay up late at night, sharing secrets, talking about our love lives and braiding each other’s hair.”  
  
“Sorry Mrs-I-Don’t-Give-A-Fuck-Even-Though-I-Really-Do.”  
  
She emptied the pan onto her plate and took a seat beside him at the breakfast bar, “I- sorry - it’s just not like that now, if he’s happy then I’m happy.” And in all honesty, she really wasn’t lying for anyone’s sake, she wholeheartedly meant that statement.  
  
“Are you sure about that?”  
  
She thought for a moment and stopped mid chew, sighing, “Was I really that obvious and transparent?”  
  
“About Seb?” She nodded, resuming eating with her bowed, “a bit, I think I only noticed it because I wanted to. I don’t know what it is between you two but whatever it is will work itself out eventually.”  
  
“And in the meantime, I’m happy with my own relationship just as he’s happy with his.”  
  
He teasingly ruffled her hair, “That’s my girl,” He was keen to keep their time together light-hearted, no matter how much he wanted to push a little to have her talking candidly. Maybe he needed to feed her a bottle of wine first and let her talk it out, he knew her well enough at this point to know she was very hellbent on keeping things bottled up and to herself, he also knew how deadly that can be to a person, especially someone like Eleanor. But if she was genuinely happy, and Sebastian was too, he couldn’t really ask for any more than that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [ohstardust](https://ohstardust.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat about characters, writing or just a general chit chat.
> 
> There is also an accompanying _[playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/iamsamball/playlist/09qvd7G38vEBlXJpu9mQ6C?si=22B3dVVxT2uuSGvAHypd-g)_ for this series  & a _[Pinterest board](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/ohstardust/rose-coloured-boy/)_.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sebastian Stan & Eleanor Egan spent the better part of six years being the European outcasts of Rockland Country Day School. Despite growing through their teens as best friends, college soon broke down their friendship until nothing remained. Ten years later, a turn of events in a city as large as New York City, finds them running in the same social circles once again with nowhere to run, and nowhere to hide.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It’s taken me six long months to finish this (I’m so sorry!), life has been busy, I’ve finished my degree and I’ve been generally struggling with motivation. Would you believe that I’ve had that last segment of this chapter written for almost a year?! It’s one of the very first things I wrote for this story.
> 
> If you're enjoying this series, please drop me a comment or kudos :)

**JANUARY 2013  
  
** It was early January when Eleanor found herself tucked into a fold down seat, eight rows back and out of sight in the American Airlines theatre. She’d found herself with a week’s vacation post-filming, snagged a last-minute ticket and told all of no one that she was going to see Picnic to support Sebastian. She hadn’t even told the man himself, she wanted to surprise him post-show and not give him a reason to feel put off during the performance. Eleanor knew that feeling too well, as soon as she knew someone in the audience, she’d immediately feel unrested and more nervous.  
  
This wasn’t his first rodeo, but it _was_ his first theatre gig since his name had really been put out there and Eleanor felt a hundred shades of pride for her friend. She knew little about the play, and Sebastian’s character, neither really discussed their work together - it just wasn’t them, keeping their work separate, especially when they delved more into each other’s territory – it was what they did best. Not knowing what to expect was always half of the fun of a new show anyway, there was nothing to compare it to, or compare her _friends_ to.  
  
To say she was captivated by Sebastian would have been an understatement - a gross and barefaced lie – not that she would dare to admit, not even teasingly to the man himself. The moment he stepped out onto the stage, she was acutely aware of all heads turning to face him, to get the first glimpse of this new Hollywood actor on a small New York theatre in mid-winter. They may not have known anything about him, or the fact his home was _here_ \- they were likely more aware of his new action-hero status – but the fact still had Eleanor smiling into her palm.  
  
The story in itself was interesting and something Eleanor would have jumped at the chance to star in, it was _her_ kind of love story, forbidden and wrong and sparkled with a glimmer of hope. Her head was reeling with thoughts and feelings that needed squashing, ones of bare-chested best friends that made her chest tight and gulp half of the water from her bottle, thoughts that made her stomach swirl with butterflies and guilt and she had to keep her gaze on Ellen or Mare or Maggie or – _anyone_ that wasn’t Sebastian for a good fifteen minutes.  
  
This was dangerous.  
  
Eleanor closed her eyes for a few moments and took a deep breath during the interval, she touched up her make up in the bathroom and wondered if it was even a smart idea to return for the second act. She swallowed her feelings and slinked back to her seat in the auditorium and awaited the second act to begin. The following hour passed by in a breeze, her head was clearer, and her earlier thoughts refused to resurface. He was an attractive man, it was just a momentary glitch, _I’m only human_ she wagered, and she had a Patrick. And he had a Jennifer.  
  
And this was a stupid thought about her friend that wouldn’t rear its ugly head again. It _couldn’t.  
  
_ *-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*   
  
She double wrapped her scarf around her neck and slipped her hands into her gloves, body shivering from the brisk winter chill as she exited the theatre. New York may have been her home for almost twenty years, but the harsh seasonal weather was nothing she could grow acclimatised to. Her toes wiggled in her boots and she ran her hands up and down her crossed arms to retain some warmth, her breath visible in the air in front of her. There were few waiting places on West 42nd Street where she could stay anonymous from the speculative eyes of fans, not hers, at least she didn’t expect any of hers to be there, but of Sebastian’s. The steps of The New Victory Theatre lay just ahead, a little further up the street, so she sat herself down half way up the flight and pulled on her bobble hat, head rested against the railing with her phone in hand to scroll Twitter to pass the time.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Eleanor could hear the sounds of Sebastian leaving the theatre before she even glanced down the road, the cheers and screams were deafening, and she winced when she lifted her head and caught sight of him being mobbed at the front entrance. Why he insisted on ever leaving through the front door was still beyond her, he knew as well as she did that it was chaos; the hordes of fans, the camera flashes, the incessant noise of car horns beeping people to step off the road. It appeared that the more people who left the theatre, the more the crowd grew, whether or not they’d seen the play. She hadn’t seen anything like it in all her acting years.  
  
There were yells and chants for the actor, “Sebastian! Sebastian! Sebastian! Over here!” and Eleanor was so sure that the vast majority of the crowd were not seasoned theatre-goers, they were simply standing here just for _him,_ it wasn’t custom to shout in the faces of the actors, especially not after a long and tiresome double show day. She wanted to march over there, grab his arm and pull him from the throngs of people - to save him from the masses - and then she caught his smile as he signed autographs and leaned in close for someone to take their picture, and she pulled herself further back onto the step and rested her chin ion the heel of her palm with a smile. He was fine, he was more used to this than she was, and it was only going to expand from here.  
  
Eleanor fired off some texts to friends whilst she waited for the crowds to disperse; made coffee plans with Chace, a lunch date with Sasha and promised Damon they’d grab takeout pizza later that week. She chipped away at the peeling burgundy nail polish on her fingers and made a mental note to treat herself to a salon appointment sooner rather than later, perhaps gather the girls for a pamper afternoon, the year had taken a slow start and heavens knows they needed something to brighten up the dull and dreary season.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
“Didn’t take long for a woman to get you out of your shirt, Seb.” Eleanor’s eyes sparkled and she pushed her back off the wall with a grin and stepped towards her friend as he approached. She watched as Sebastian’s eyes widened and lit up before he pulled her into a tight embrace, his palms clapped her back.  
  
“Don’t be so sour, jealousy isn’t cute, El.” He laughed into her cheek and quirked an eyebrow as he unwound his arms from her, “actually it’s pretty cute on you.”  
  
Eleanor eyes rolled and she backhanded his bicep with a snort and a weak stomach flip, “Sod off.”  
  
“To what to do I owe this pleasure?”  
  
“Thought I’d come and see what all the fuss was about,” she thumbed to the theatre further along the road and shrugged, content and amused in equal measure as Sebastian’s mouth quirked upwards and cocked his head to the side, “’was alright I suppose.”  
  
“Oh you ‘suppose’ do you?”  
  
“Yeah, I mean I could have given Maggie a run for her money, but she was pretty decent.”  
  
He snickered in response and flicked the overhang of her scarf into her face, his arm looped through hers and pulled her along the road away from any lingering fans. It had been too long since they’d had free time to spend more than fifteen minutes together and he didn’t need prying, speculative, eyes on them as they interacted. He was fond of their less public friendship, at least for the time being where they were both still in a position that no one cared all too much who knew who.  
  
“Jen in town?”  
  
“She’s filming out of state, back next weekend for a couple of days.”  
  
“Omelette’s and coffee at yours then?”  
  
“Let’s go.”  
  
As it approached one-thirty am, Eleanor yawned and stretched out across Sebastian’s plush sofa, across from where he was curled up his oversized living room chair, a seventies thriller movie played on the television in the background, long forgotten in favour of his stories from the play and hers from filming. The conversations never strayed into the relationship area which neither paid a thought to until a few days later, almost like they didn’t need to discuss that with each other or didn’t _want_ to. Sometimes it still felt like a strange and sketchy topic, for reasons neither were all too sure of and Eleanor later began to wonder if they’d always been so vague about romantics when conversing together.  
  
“It’s time I head off and hit the hay,” she softly spoke as she pulled herself up into a sitting position to stand, the early hours leaving way for a hushed and relaxed atmosphere.  
  
“What time is it?”  
  
“It’s –“ she paused to check her watch in the lamplight and cursed, “too late for me to be keeping you up when you’ve got an early start.”  
  
Eleanor stood and started to bustle around in her haste to leave, _regretfully so,_ she thought briefly and tugged on her shoes.  
  
“You can’t leave now, it’s too late. C’mon, I’ll find something comfortable for you to sleep in and you can crash here.”  
  
“No no, don’t be silly, I’ll be home in no time.”  
  
“Stay here for me then, for my peace of mind.”  
  
She glanced at him, just as she was about to take her coat from the hook, and sighed at his pleading expression, _how was she supposed to refuse that_? Instead of answering, she picked up a biro pen from the side table by the front door and lazily flung it at him in mock annoyance, “Fine then, oh protective one, I’ll stay. But I expect breakfast in the morning.”  
  
“There will be tea and croissants waiting when you wake up.”  
  
“Now _that’s_ the service I expect from Casa de Stan.”  
  
  
  
**MAY**  
  
Finished. Over. Cancelled. Not renewed. Final. Done. Finito. Two seasons in and the ratings had fallen so low that there was no hope of any network picking the show up to renew it, and as much as everyone could see the end looming, no one liked to admit their work was coming to an end and they’d be unemployed. Especially not Eleanor who’d made her new home on the show. She’d known since her early acting days that this industry was a tricky one, and everything was destined to end sooner or later, but she wouldn’t have minded a bit of stability for a while longer.  
  
“So, I guess that’s me out of work again then,” Eleanor huffed and sighed wearily. She pulled the clothes in the dryer out one by one and shook, folded and placed them onto the kitchen countertop. Sasha stretched out across the surface; a coffee mug cradled between her hands and a confused look etched onto her features.  
  
“What the hell happened?”  
  
“Show got cancelled, should have known it wouldn’t last much longer,” she snatched a dropped shirt off the floor and shook it with a touch more vehemence before setting it down on top of the pile. Her hands scrubbed over her face and she leant forward for a moment, elbows planted on the wooden counter and sipped her tea. “Kids might enjoy coming to see the shows but who wants to watch a dramatised version of our lives on telly? Not many apparently.”  
  
“You’re not surprised then?”  
  
“Only that we made it this far.”  
  
Sasha eyed her friend warily and chewed on her lip, “What’s your next plan?”  
  
Eleanor pushed herself off the counter and began to finish folding her clothes, “The only thing I can do is throw myself into a shit tonne of auditions, at least I’m more open to television gigs now.”  
  
“I’m sure the guys will give you a helping hand if you -“  
  
“No.” She turned to the younger girl and shook her head with fervency, “I’m a big girl, with my own career, I’m not relying on them to get me _any_ work.”  
  
“I knew you’d be too proud.”  
  
“Everyone has their pre-conceptions of me now anyway, I’m not giving them any ammunition to fire back at me.” It was true, Eleanor had made a name for herself, on her _own_ terms, the last thing she wanted was a common understanding among the public that she was receiving help in advancing her career. Her friends were there to be her friend, not a helping hand or as a career enhancement. Especially not with the success of her circle of friends.  
  
“That’s wise, it’s not really worth the aggravation I guess.”  
  
“It’s fine, it’ll all work out,” Eleanor kept herself busy and occupied, the clothing was sat at the bottom of her wardrobe to be dealt with when she had the energy to sort it and she sat down on one of the bar stools beside Sasha, her feet pulled up to her chest, “besides, I’ve got Maria on the case, she’s sending a tonne of options and auditions my way for consideration so I’m keeping positive.”  
  
“If anyone can get their shit together, it’s you El.”  
  
Eleanor was hopeful, she just hoped beyond anything that her friend’s faith wasn’t misplaced in her.  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
Her schedule for the following week found her with eight auditions, three meetings and a callback, it was the most she’d had in months. Despite the show she was constantly on the lookout for new projects to fill gaps in her itinerary and, although she wasn’t as concerned about having a new gig immediately after the season wrapped, this time it felt different and she felt sparks of hope igniting. Maybe a new challenge and a new start to reinvent herself again would be a good thing. She can’t say she wanted to be known as that theatre actress for the rest of her life anyway, she was just very good at pigeonholing herself.

*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*

The month of May had really taken its toll on Eleanor, with the cancellation of Smash and the constant auditions she’d been enduring for the past two weeks, she was beyond exhausted, she’d barely remembered her looming birthday and the plans to head out of town for the weekend.  
  
Sebastian had let himself into her apartment a little after noon whilst she was vacuuming her bedroom, short of anything to do for the remainder of the day, he’d crawled into her bed and watched her for a few minutes as she grumbled about him using his key without an actual emergency.  
  
“Well I tried knocking.” He reasoned, arms folded around the pillow under his head and burrowed into it. Sometimes she forgot how much of a petulant child he was.  
  
“I had the hoover going, idiot boy.”  
  
“Precisely, I wasn’t standing outside of your door like a lurker until you’d finished. It’s called ‘friend privileges’ of having your spare key.”  
  
She glared at him and shook her head, incredulous, “I give up.”  
  
“So, what’s with the spring clean?”  
  
Eleanor shook out a few cushions and arranged them on the white painted wicker chair sat in the far corner of the bedroom, and straightened the pale grey throw draped over the back, “I’m not coming home to a dusty and untidy home after a weekend away.”  
  
Sebastian’s head shot up and his eyebrows scrunched, “Wait, where are you going?  
  
“Just out of town, birthday relaxation treat.”  
  
He pondered for a moment before a frown overtook his face as his head dropped and he clutched the pillow a little tighter, “You’re really not going to be here for it?”  
  
“No, I thought I’d told you, Patrick’s taking me away for a long weekend,” she glanced over at the man curled up in her duvet with a defeated expression, she softened and added “but I’ll be home on the 28th, we can do something then, alright?”  
  
“I suppose, he could have told everyone in advance though, what if we’d planned something for you? **”  
  
** “Did you?”  
  
“Well no, but -“  
  
“There you go then, no harm done.” She swatted his calves with a rolled-up magazine, “Now get off my bed and stop pestering me, go and annoy your girlfriend.”  
  
“She’s out of town.”  
  
“Well boo hoo sweetcheeks, don’t think I’m gonna entertain you for the time being. You’re cluttering the place up.”  
  
His face soured and he batted her hands away from him that tried to pull on his legs to drag him off the mattress, “You used to be so much fun, now you’re horrible.”  
  
“I’m an old, tired woman, Seba. I can’t be dealing with the youth today.”  
  
With a huff he pulled himself up and stretched, a yawn overtaking his face. He straightened out the sheets and smoothed out the crinkles, pumped the pillows and left it in the state he’d found it before he’d crashed on it, “Fine, I’ll help you pack then.”  
  
*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*-*  
  
New Haven was beautiful, and Eleanor questioned why she hadn’t been out there sooner, she’d been in the city for all of an hour, but she was quick to admire and enjoy the slower pace of this particular city. Everywhere felt like a slower pace than New York.  
  
She’d jumped at the opportunity to visit the moment Patrick had suggested Connecticut. For only being a state over, she hadn’t ever crossed that state line, but Patrick was keen to show her just a small piece of his home state and the city closest to where he was raised. Seeing a place that had been so important and integral to her partner’s life, and upbringing, was as exciting as it was intriguing, like everything has its own little Patrick stamp imprinted upon it. She hadn’t experienced this with a boyfriend before.  
  
They’d walked hand in hand down treelined streets, wandered the Saturday morning farmer’s market, roamed the grounds of Yale University (Eleanor insisted she wasn’t coming to New Haven and _not_ seeing such a prestigious school) and picnicked overlooking the river at East Rock Park. The tranquillity was idyllic, and Eleanor wanted nothing more than to cosy up in this part of the state for a while longer, forget her responsibilities, her callbacks, the uncertainty, and just enjoy her time with Patrick.  
  
She loved her friends with all of her heart, but the overwhelming birthday fuss was not missed this year, her previous birthday had filled her fuss quota for a lifetime and this year she felt more the adult she was than ever before.  
  
This felt serious, and permanent, and perhaps she could see herself moving here with her boyfriend one day and having a more permanent family than she had had growing up. For a few days she wondered what it would be like to have a _forever_ with Patrick.  
  
  
  
**SEPTEMBER  
  
** Eleanor had hurt for a while after her relationship ended with Rhys, far more than she thought she would. She’d known it wasn’t going to be the relationship that carried with her the rest of her life, she knew they wouldn’t get married, have kids, grow old together, but she’d been pretty fond of him and she’d just wanted him to stick around for a bit longer. She’d grown used to sharing her spare time with someone again, used to the comfort and excitement that surrounded a relationship in its infancy. In all honesty, she’d just missed having her own _someone._    
  
And then Patrick had all but swept her off her feet and gave her hope, the feeling that maybe she wasn’t a total disaster in the romance department and perhaps someone _could_ actually love her one day after all. He’d told her he loved her months ago. So, when their relationship fell apart three days before their first anniversary, Eleanor wanted to smash anything breakable, have a hissy fit and cry until she ran dry. And possibly break his nose. Sweet, poor, stupid Patrick.  
  
But it wasn’t Patrick that was stupid, _she_ felt stupid for believing she could have the happy ever after, that she was capable of being loved and being part of someone’s long term plans. She’d never felt more temporary and disposable as she did right now. Eleanor had grown up around broken relationships, failed marriages, heartbreak, but there was still a hopeful part buried deep inside her that wondered if she could break the family curse and perhaps have a more permanent happiness with her relationships. The older you grow, the harder it is to have your heart broken, every cut feels deeper and hopes of marriage, children, a white picket fence and a family dog is pushed further out reach.  
  
His excuse had been weak. Whilst insistent that he loved her, he ‘couldn’t see their relationship expanding any further’, he thought they’d ‘run their course’. Eleanor wanted to be fucking sick. And _definitely_ break Patrick’s nose. She didn’t think she deserved much from life, but she knew she deserved better than that.  
  
  
  
**OCTOBER**  
  
“I always thought you were too good for me, even in high school.”  
  
“You’re kidding me right?”  
  
“Not one bit. I had such a school boy crush on you when I was about fourteen.” Sebastian’s eyes were resting shut as he drunkenly confessed his old feelings for her, his voice was lazy and drawn out and he had a reminiscent smile stretched over his lips. His left arm hung down between them with a half burned out cigarette resting between his fingers, too much tequila on his breath and with a burnt red hue to his cheeks after his admission. They were lying on sun loungers on Chace’s balcony, their friends inside chatting, and drinking and singing for no reason in particular, just sharing their love for one another. Everything felt pleasant, time felt slow and she took a drag of her own cigarette to curb the butterflies in her stomach.  
  
“And then you grew up,” she laughed lightly.  
  
“I’m not so sure about that,” he opened one eye to glance at her in amusement, “you were so dorky but in a really cute way and you were there for me through everything. I hit that point where I realised I actually liked you, so I told Nina and obviously she already knew because apparently I wasn’t very subtle.”  
  
“You must have been subtle enough because I had no clue. How come you didn’t just tell me?”  
  
“I knew that you’d never have looked at me that way, and I was fine with it, really I was. I ended up kissing Nina and that’s when she told me she knew how I felt about you.”  
  
“You kissed Nina?!”  
  
“I know, I know. It was so stupid, she smacked me in the head after it, my lesson was very much learnt.”  
  
Eleanor chewed on her bottom lip, pausing the conversation and swirled her wine around the glass, “It sounds a little bit more than a crush.”  
  
“It was. And part of me wishes I’d told you years ago, but I didn’t and maybe that was for the best. A part of me just wants you to look at me that way now.”  
  
“You can’t say something like that to me, not all blasé and nonchalant,” she raised her cigarette to her lips again and inhaled then exhaled, watching the cloud of smoke disappear into the air, “Not when you’ve just split up with your girlfriend.”  
  
“I thought now was the perfect time. If there ever was one.”  
  
“Patrick  & I have been split up for six days, Sebastian.”  
  
“I know, but I need to be honest with us both.”  
  
She sighed and tried to find the best response to give her friend, he wasn’t thinking straight, he was too drunk, he was vulnerable and so was she. For as long as she’d know him, he’d always fallen too hard and loved too much. Now wasn’t the time and part of her suspected there never would be a right time for them both. No matter how she cared for him, on some level it didn’t seem right.  
  
“You’re a no good pretty boy Seb, always have been, your heart is two sizes too big and you have more than enough love for more than one person,” she smiled as wide as she was emotionally able to but Sebastian had known her long enough to see her falter and the sadness interlaced with it. “It’s not a bad thing, but someone always ends up caught in the crossfire and I don’t think I’m strong enough to deal with that. Not even for you.”  
  
“It sounds like you’ve already written me off.”  
  
Her fingers laced through his and their hands dropped between them, slowly swaying. Her eyes wandered over the city before them, the twinkle of lights, the high-rise building, the endless city scape. The sounds of beeping horns, and too much traffic and the hustle and bustle that was so soothing and calming to her now, it was serene, and this conversation was borderline dangerous after three glasses of wine and a gin or two, “I haven’t but I should do.”  
  
“It’s different now El, _I’m_ different now.”  
  
Eleanor’s head turned to face him, and her eyes fluttered, “Maybe that would have worked on me a few years ago, but I’ve been around you again for too long to know you’re fooling yourself. You’re not a teenager anymore, Sebastian, and I’m no longer naive. There’s always someone else. This year it was Jen, last year was the aftermath of Leighton and you flirting your way around New York. You fall too easily, my love.”  
  
“There’s never anyone else when you’re around.”  
  
“I can’t tell myself that I’ll be enough for you when I know it’s not true,” the thought sobered her all too quickly and the air between them was too heavy. It felt like her birthday again when they’d lapsed into unfamiliar territory and she was concerned, worried, scared to shit that this was heading south, and they couldn’t reel anything back before they were sober enough to think rationally about this all. They’d barely been friends again for two years and this all felt too soon, he’d opened his heart to her again and let her in after all that had happened, she wasn’t prepared to do anything to ruin that again.  
  
She gave a pathetic laugh and breathed in some fresh air and shook her head with a smile, “Anyway, this is all silly talk, yeah?”  
  
Sebastian didn’t know how to make her see how wrong she was, didn’t know how to tell her that his decisions these past two years had been centred around her, maybe even longer than that. Instead he rubbed his thumb over hers and squeezed her hand tight, his head nodded in confirmation if only to appease her. He’d try again once he was sober enough to not feel so emotional about this. If that time ever came.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Tumblr [ohstardust](https://ohstardust.tumblr.com) if you wanna chat about characters, writing or just a general chit chat.
> 
> There is also an accompanying _[playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/iamsamball/playlist/09qvd7G38vEBlXJpu9mQ6C?si=22B3dVVxT2uuSGvAHypd-g)_ for this series  & a _[Pinterest board](https://www.pinterest.co.uk/ohstardust/rose-coloured-boy/)_.


End file.
